


the crow upon the sea

by lilithiumwords



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AKA the Russian spy AU nobody asked for, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Corruption, Drama, Espionage, Gen, Genetically Engineered Beings, Government Conspiracy, Government Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Imprisonment, M/M, Minor Character Death, On the Run, Original Character(s), Police Brutality, Romance, Science Fiction, Sexual Content, Suspense, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:50:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 95,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8690167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithiumwords/pseuds/lilithiumwords
Summary: Supposedly, Katsuki Yuuri can hear strange messages on the radio, the government is raiding random homes in his town, and Viktor Nikiforov has disappeared.The truth is a completely different story.





	1. the crow upon the sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the [Weird AU Prompt](https://amberstarfight.tumblr.com/post/153794602267/weird-au-prompts): "Listen, I am genetically modified and on the run and you _will_ let me hide in your house" AU.
> 
> AKA the Russian spy AU nobody asked for, because I have no shame.
> 
> Cover made with [Canva](https://www.canva.com).
> 
> If you are reading on a browser, you can hover over non-English text for a translation!
> 
> Translations, for those on mobile/e-reader (I apologize for any grammar mistakes):  
>  _vorona na more rytsarem. prodolzhat'. nesti sebya._ \-- the crow upon the sea knighted. carry on. carry yourself.  
>  _vorobey parit_ \-- the sparrow soars  
>  _bezopasno_ \-- safe

_"Please save Crow. Someone, please help me get Crow out. I will do anything. Someone please help."_

~*~

When Yuuri was very young, he took up ballet classes -- because he saw a magazine cover with a _prima ballerina,_ and he fell in love. A year after his first meeting with Minako- _sensei_ , Yuuri enrolled in a class at the local skating rink, and he loved it even more.

It was only a passing love, though. He skated through middle and high school, even competed locally, but ultimately, Yuuri never became one of the top skaters in Japan. In another universe, maybe.

Elsewhere in the world, Viktor Nikiforov never became a figure skater, and Katsuki Yuuri never followed in his footsteps. Not then, anyway.

~*~

When Yuuri is nineteen, he starts a summer internship at Iida Media. Fresh out of his first year classes with innocent, vigorous hope that he can change the world, Yuuri jumps at the opportunity presented by his Communications professor, diving into a realm of fast-talking businessmen and professional suits. Every day, he puts on a tie he hates and leaves his tiny apartment early enough to catch the first morning train. He gets very little sleep, and every stress-induced binge eating episode is countered by missed lunches and only tea for breakfast.

For two months, Yuuri spends every day running for coffee, delivering documents, and waiting outside boardrooms to rush in after meetings to clean. It is the worst job in the world, and he catches absolutely nobody's notice. He corrects spelling in news scrolls, listens to half-whispered conversations by the coffee maker, and realizes, for the first time in his life, how much of the news is censored from the public. 

The answer: nearly all of it.

He learns of key government officials that have been taking money from corporations and private groups for years, using the influence to pass legislation in favor of those groups. Iida Media is hardly innocent of this, though Yuuri doesn't know the extent of it. He never knows the full story; only pieces of different stories that, when put together, paint an ugly picture of the world.

He learns to distrust the media. He isn't even halfway through his internship before he decides he never wants to work in journalism ever again. He braves out the rest of the drudgery, and at some point, he starts taking information home.

The interesting thing about Yuuri is that, to the average person, he is hardly interesting at all. He grew up in a small town. His parents owned their own business and put him through private school for most of his life. He had few friends and, thus, was terrible at networking. His closest friends were made through ice skating, but he had long given up that hobby by the time he reached college. His hobby is gaming, and his strength is dieting. His face is average; he is small and unassuming. Most people don't even notice Yuuri is there.

His unassuming nature makes it ridiculously easy to spy on other people.

He keeps copies of transcripts that were "updated" and thrown out, that paint the world very differently than Iida Media and its conglomerates like to portray. He writes down the strange, whispered conversations in a notebook and hides it under his floorboards, feeling increasingly like someone is following him. 

They might be. He is betraying his contract, after all. Maybe even his country.

(The worst isn't that the government is ridiculously corrupt with money freely exchanged beneath the table, though Yuuri certainly hates that part of it. He uncovers the scariest secret purely by accident.)

Near the end of his internship, Yuuri has to become more subtle in his thievery, more outgoing with his fellow interns, makes a point of kowtowing to his managers, and the feeling of being watched fades. It leaves him nervous, though, and when the internship is finally over, he flees back to college and buries himself in studies in Computer Science, a degree innocent enough that no one seems to suspect anything of him.

Before that, though, he meets Viktor Nikiforov.

It is the last day of his internship. Yuuri has been running errands all day for his supervisor, and when he slumps against a wall sometime in the late afternoon, he is irritable and exhausted. His tie is a little crooked, his hair messy and limp, his body lagging -- he needs a break. Yuuri pauses by the water dispenser, glancing down the empty hallway and listening for his supervisor's voice.

Good, the man is still in his meeting, and from the schedule in Yuuri's pocket, he should stay there for at least another twenty minutes. Yuuri ducks away before anybody can turn the corner and send him on another errand.

At the end of the next hallway is a dressing room that has been empty all summer. Yuuri glances back and sees no one, then ducks inside, relieved to have a moment of privacy. His fingers find the light switch, flicking it up to turn on the overhead.

With a sigh that thumps his shoulders against the wall, Yuuri loosens his tie a bit more, closing his eyes for a moment as he breathes. A week into his internship, he had been told to clean this room, and he had discovered that whoever had this dressing room last had kept a trove of candy, and Yuuri has made it a habit to sneak a piece every once in a while. His eyes flick open; something is different about the room. He glances up and notices that the mirror lights are already on, and then he freezes.

A man is standing in front of the mirror, in the middle of pulling on his shirt. He is tall with sleek, straight hair, a silvery blonde that immediately announces him as foreign. Broad shoulders, tall figure, a good physique -- and wildly, a small circle on the left side of his back, that glows green and twinkles at Yuuri in the light like a glimmer of metal. Thin lines run away from the circle, like electrical pathways on a circuit board.

A moment later, the man slides his shirt up and buttons it, and Yuuri's stare is drawn to the mirror by another flash of green, where he meets vividly colored eyes that seem to turn from green to blue in an instant. The man holds his gaze for a long moment, perhaps catching the terror on Yuuri's face, because Yuuri has realized exactly whom he walked in on.

Lieutenant Viktor Nikiforov of the Russian military, one of the soldiers they are interviewing today.

"I'm, I'm so sorry, this room is usually empty," Yuuri stutters, hurrying to bow, and Nikiforov's serious expression melts away into a smile, polite yet cheerful.

Nikiforov turns to face him, buttoning up his shirt and picking up a jacket, and Yuuri doesn't dare watch. (Years later, he will wish he had.) "That's no problem. They put me in here at the last minute, after all." He falls silent for a moment, during which Yuuri inches toward the door, ready to flee before his supervisor hears of this, but Nikiforov is already striding across the room, long fingers catching the door knob before Yuuri can. He stops beside Yuuri and leans in, sending a wave of cologne into Yuuri's space.

"I won't tell anyone if you won't," Nikiforov says, putting his finger to his lips and winking, and somehow, Yuuri knows he means the glowing circle on his back. Yuuri nods, and then the man is gone.

Yuuri breathes in deeply. The cologne smells nice.

More importantly, _Viktor Nikiforov had something in his back that glowed._ Yuuri spends the rest of his day in a daze, barely remembering to thank his manager and supervisor for their hard work (using his hard work, but Yuuri would never say so to their faces). He rides the train home in silence, paying little attention to his phone or the other passengers.

His mind remains focused on Viktor Nikiforov and the glowing object in his back.

_What was it?_

When he turns on the news, Yuuri goes to one of the Iida Media channels to catch the interview with Viktor. On the television, the man is wearing a dark suit, and his charming smile makes the reporter blush. There is no sign that he has something strange in his body, and the interview has little information that Yuuri did not already know about Japan's affairs with Russian military.

It is a strange friendship, one that many of their allies disliked. Viktor Nikiforov is the face of that friendship, popular in both Russia and Japan alike, despite being young and relatively inexperienced in the military. Everybody loves him. Yuuri isn't quite sure when Japan and Russia began performing military exercises together, but he knows that Viktor Nikiforov is in Japan often, usually in conjunction with robot exhibitions. Nikiforov will publicly test several high-grade military robots at the Denten Robotic Symposium next week. 

Yuuri goes online. He, embarrassingly, searches for topless figures of Viktor Nikiforov. To his dismay, many of them exist, from posing with his fellow soldiers during training, to standing in swim shorts at the beach, sunglasses pushed back through his hair. Every photo is beautiful, and none shows the glowing object that Yuuri definitely saw.

He tries to search the internet about it, using many combinations and word searches, even tries English-language websites. (He can't figure out the Russian pages. He makes the decision to learn the language later.) Little comes back, except off fanwork collections, movie reviews, and conspiracy theorist pages, and Yuuri closes his laptop, defeated. He suspects the internet is just as censored as the news, because a few times, he had thought a link would be useful, only for the webpage to stop loading suddenly. He has little expertise on internet security, so he doesn't bother trying to get around the firewalls built into his internet service provider; he'd likely get in trouble if he tried without reading up on it first.

Yuuri learns, though. Over the years, he learns proxies and anonymous emailing and private browsing. He learns encryption, though he is far too paranoid to put his thoughts on his computer. He writes it all instead, jotting it down in a mix of Japanese, English, Thai, and Russian, languages that he picks up over the years through friends, studies, and the internet.

Viktor Nikiforov stays in his mind. The glowing circle follows Yuuri into the next four years, through graduation, and back to Hasetsu, where he mires in anonymity. The entire time, he follows the news with little trust in the delivered information, his attention sharpening whenever Russia is mentioned. He keeps an ear out for news on Viktor Nikiforov, who rises quickly in the Russian military, and who always seems to have a presence in Japan, for meetings and diplomatic affairs alike.

The more Yuuri searches the internet for news on the glowing circle, the more he finds websites, channels, forums, hidden deep in guileless places, where people talk in hushed whispers, just like at Iida Media -- though they talk about the guilt of the government, secrets that need to be shared, and a mysterious person called the Crow.

From the information Yuuri gathers through determined lurking, the Crow has been trapped in the government's hold since their childhood. Nothing is known about their gender, their looks, nor even which country has entrapped them. All that the forums know is that the figure apparently has super powers: high speed, incredible strength, and supposedly all manner of superhuman abilities that could include flying, telepathy, and mind-reading. Yuuri is skeptical of the last few, but the few shaky videos posted in those dusty, shadowed forums lay down the proof that somewhere, there is a person who can stop an armored tank with one hand and jump five stories with a single leap. A modern-day Superman, amazingly, though it still infuriates him that none of these videos appear in the mainstream news.

Genetic modification. Crow was created by their government purely as a superhuman soldier. Some even suspect he is a mix of two or more countries' modifications, research that should be illegal, because of the trails of human trafficking into Russia, Latin America, and Southeast Asia.

Hundreds go missing. Most assumed to have run away, but the forums suspect otherwise. Friends and neighbors snatched off the street, seemingly loners, but for a few friends that sat up and noticed. The trails always disappear, but sometimes, the kidnapped people come back.

And they are not the same.

Yuuri strikes upon the truth in his fourth year of college, when he enters an exchange program for a semester. He goes to Detroit for half a year, to see more of the world and search the United States' less censored internet for rumors and information (not that Yuuri tells the customs personnel that).

He studies and researches, and he runs into more dead ends. Frustrated, Yuuri takes up skating again, and one night he runs into Phichit, a cheerful man from Thailand who is staying in Detroit to train for figure skating competitions.

_"Wow, your skating is amazing, Yuuri! Do you compete here? Are you training for the nationals?"_

_"Oh, no, I stopped skating in high school..."_

_"What? And you're still this good? Come on, you've got to skate with me from now on! Join our skating club!"_

They hit it off immediately. To Yuuri's embarrassment, Phichit is happily in love with the internet. Soon, Phichit's Instagram is full of too many pictures of Yuuri's surprised face, alongside delicious meals in cafes around Detroit and smiling faces laughing at Phichit's antics. To keep up with him, Yuuri agrees to start an Instagram, despite not knowing how it works. Phichit is one of the first friends Yuuri has made in years, so he isn't too upset.

One day after a grueling final exam, Yuuri goes to Phichit's apartment to collapse for a while on his couch, browsing through old tags on Phichit's Instagram.

"I can't believe you're going back to Japan in less than a week," Phichit laments, leaning back against Yuuri's leg heavily. Yuuri doesn't bother moving; Phichit seems happily ensconced on the floor, picking through a large plate of snacks.

"I know. I'm going to miss it here," Yuuri sighs, his voice muffled by his arm.

"And me," Phichit adds, not even bothering to sound sly, and Yuuri grins.

"And you. Though I think we have enough pictures of each other to last a lifetime." He flips through photos, finding another tag marked "forever <3" and opens it. Images of a younger Phichit smiling with another Thai teen fill the screen, and Yuuri blinks. "Who's this?"

Phichit looks back to the screen, and when he sees the picture Yuuri selects, his face falls, his eternal smile fading so abruptly that Yuuri thinks he is looking at another person for a moment. After a long pause, Phichit manages a smile again, though it is a mere shadow of his usual cheer. "That's my friend Chatchom. He's dead now."

Yuuri inhales softly. "I'm so sorry, Phichit-kun. I didn't mean..."

Phichit shakes his head, giving Yuuri a sweet smile. "Don't be sorry, it happened years ago. He was my best friend growing up. We did everything together." He falls quiet for a moment, then seems to summon his bravery. "When we were thirteen, though, he was the victim of a human trafficking scam. The police found him and brought him back, but whatever they did to him, he wasn't... Chatchom anymore. He got into drugs and eventually disappeared, and they found his body a year later in another city. I miss him, but I never blamed him for what happened. He was a good person, and... someone hurt him, bad enough to change him. It wasn't his fault."

As Phichit gathers his thoughts, Yuuri stays quiet, thinking of the forums he has been reading lately, of missing persons from Southeast Asia. He wonders if Phichit knows any of the case details, or even where his friend was taken, but he stops himself from asking, because Phichit looks troubled.

Eventually Phichit starts talking again, his melodic voice holding Yuuri captive. "His death never sat well with me. Not only because of the way he died, but... it's like his heart was stolen and replaced. Sometimes... I thought I saw him doing strange things. Like, one night, I thought I saw him jump a two story wall." Phichit catches Yuuri's stare and laughs. "Wild, right? People can't jump that high. It was late, I thought I had imagined things... and I never got to ask him. I think the people who took him did something to his body, because one time, I saw him shirtless."

Yuuri holds his breath.

"He had a ring on his heart. It glowed," Phichit tells him, hushed, then looks around as if someone might be listening. Yuuri glances at the window out of the same concern, but he sees nothing unusual through the blinds.

"That's wild," Yuuri whispers, and he wants to say more, admit that he has seen the same on someone -- but then he thinks of Viktor, a popular public figure, and keeps his mouth shut. He wonders if it is actually the same. Two people from different countries with green circles on their bodies -- how could they be linked?

If only he had looked at Viktor's chest that day!

Phichit nods, not noticing Yuuri's distraction. "It was horrible. I think it drove him insane. He left me a note before he left, but I couldn't read it for a long time, and it didn't make any sense afterward. The note kept talking about a circle. The green circle. It was so strange, because he had one on his body, too." Phichit stares down at his phone, then looks up at Yuuri with a smile. "Weird, huh? I've never told anybody that. Something about you makes me trust you, Yuuri. Well, I knew you were amazing already. I'm going to miss you."

 _Green circle._ Yuuri manages a small smile. He has research to do when he gets home. "I'll miss you too, Phichit-kun. We should definitely keep in touch on Instagram and everything. I might start posting more."

Phichit lights up at that idea, his solemnity forgotten for the moment. "That would be amazing, Yuuri! Oh, please let me upload some photos for you! Let's go out this weekend and take tons of pictures!" He chatters on, beaming, and Yuuri is glad for the distraction.

He doesn't forget, though. Not when he goes home to Japan, nor any time after.

 _The Green Circle._ Even his usual conspiracy forums whisper the words with caution. A secret coalition of several different international government agencies, so secret that not even the citizens of each country know they exist, joined in unholy matrimony with military research and human testing. A program to produce the perfect super soldier through genetic modification. Russia seems to be the biggest offender, though the United States isn't far behind. The other participating countries make it even worse, because one of them is Japan.

This, Yuuri learns in pieces over the course of seven years from the day he meets Viktor Nikiforov. He gathers the pieces of the puzzle carefully, and when he lays out all the information together, the results chill him. The Green Circle isn't just genetic modification; it is a combination of genetic modification through special serums and training, alongside robotic manipulation of the body. Such soldiers are stolen from countries that make human trafficking easy, experimented on, and usually die -- or so Yuuri's fellow conspiracy theorists assume. Few people return from the Green Circle programs, after all. Chatchom seemed to be one of a scant few who escaped.

What Yuuri manages to figure out, through hundreds of blurry photos and underreported news articles on sketchy conspiracy sites (that Yuuri has backdoor passes into; his hacking gets better every year), is that there are superhumans in the world, and all of them have green circles on their chests. The mysterious Crow is part of the Green Circle, too, and a favorite of the conspiracy theorists. Perhaps because their pictures are the clearest, or perhaps because of the growing love for the Crow's heroics in a world full of hate and violence.

Yuuri wishes he had looked at Viktor Nikiforov more closely that day. He has little doubt that Nikiforov must be part of the Green Circle as well, though he can't imagine how or why Nikiforov would join such a group. Maybe he had been forced into it, like the others? Or maybe he had joined willingly? Is his work with Denten Robotics related to the Green Circle? What has he really been doing in Japan?

Whatever the case, Yuuri is forever glad that Nikiforov had not done anything to him for seeing the circle. He could have died that day, had Nikiforov reported him to the government. For that reason alone, Yuuri thinks a little better of Nikiforov.

Even after graduation, after he returns to Hasetsu, Yuuri keeps his knowledge close to him. He boosts up his encryption and firewalls and keeps an unassuming air in public. What he knows could kill him, could kill his entire family. He takes a nondescript job in his nondescript town, and he hides every piece of information away beneath the floorboards of his modest home. He keeps an eye out for strangers in Hasetsu, for anybody showing more than a passing interest in him, because he believes it is just a matter of time before the government figures out that he knows and has him captured.

In the meantime, though, Yuuri learns to fight, because he cannot abide by this injustice.

~*~

With a small twist to the large knob, the static fizzles into a faraway voice.

"... _vorona na more ...  rytsarem ... prodolzhat ... nesti sebya_..."

Yuuri jots down the words, knowing that his spelling is atrocious and wishing he had brought his dictionary from the other room. He prefers the older way of looking up definitions, having little faith his command of the Russian language and hardly any more in the online dictionaries, especially when his WI-FI goes out at inauspicious times.

"... _vorobey parit_..."

The voice fades away. Yuuri waits for several minutes, but no more messages can be heard. He sighs, makes note of the time and frequency, and stows the notebook in his desk drawer, turning the shortwave radio off before leaning back in his chair and stretching. For a long moment, he stares at the ceiling, wondering about the voice on the other end of the wavelength, then shakes his head and tugs himself up, wandering into his kitchen.

_The crow and the sparrow, huh? Good luck to both of you._

A bowl of rice and vegetables later, Yuuri plops down on the worn sofa in the middle of his small living room, flicking on the TV and absently stirring the fried egg into his rice. Outside the wind blows harshly against his windows, rattling them, and Yuuri frowns, leaving his bowl on the table as he gets up to close the curtains.

The evening news catches his ear as he stops at the window, staring out at the snow falling heavily and hard outside.

"A reminder to our citizens that the Strike Task Forces will be patrolling the area. With increased security risks from our foreign neighbors, we ask that all citizens report any suspicious individuals to their local police force immediately. Please obey all orders and requests from any Strike Task Officer that you meet..."

 _As if any officer will be out in this weather._ Yuuri snorts, pulling the wooden shutters inside the windows closed, then tying the curtains closed. The rattling fades a little, and he shuffles back to the couch, pulling his bowl close to his chest as he eats, bored with the news but caring little about other channels. He lost his TV guide and has no idea what might be on, and he doesn't care enough to search for a movie or a special.

"In other news, Russian authorities have increased their border patrols in all regions. Commander Alexei Sokolov spoke to the media yesterday via livestream and praised the talents of Captain Viktor Nikiforov, the most accomplished man in the Russian military. Though he is taking an extended rest to recuperate from a skirmish earlier this month, Captain Nikiforov will be attending the International Summit, taking place in Tokyo in two months, alongside the brightest and most successful Strike Task Force members..."

Yuuri sits up, staring at the image on the television screen intently. The picture of Viktor Nikiforov is old, at least six months past, but his charming smile and piercing blue eyes still catch Yuuri's attention with a powerful punch. He sighs, knowing well that the world is enamored with the attractive man, and that he is hardly any different.

"Extended rest," Yuuri scoffs. There is little doubt in Yuuri's mind that Viktor Nikiforov is missing, in jail, or dead. He is waiting for the day the news reports on the Captain's "tragic accident."

He knows how to read between the lines.

He thinks of his first and only meeting with Viktor Nikiforov. Just a small moment to meet and admire the most illustrious international warrior on the planet. Hardly more than a few minutes, but it was enough. To Nikiforov, Yuuri had just been another stuttering intern, but the day had definitely left an impression on Yuuri that had lasted years. One small glimpse at something innocuous, and it had turned Yuuri into an anarchist.

"Thanks a lot, Viktor," Yuuri sighs, though the words sound almost fond. He is grateful that Nikiforov opened his eyes. The world has much to account for, and every day that he can fight a little longer, he is thankful.

Would that he could escape it completely.

A year ago, he had found a shortwave radio at the electronics store where he worked. With a little bit of extra work, he fixed the broken device up and started scanning, searching for the mysterious frequencies his fellow conspiracy theorists liked to use and study. He found a few that were boring, and a few that were interesting, and then some.

_"Please save Crow. Someone, please help me get Crow out. I will do anything. Someone please help."_

A single message heard late one night -- a connection to someone in Russia, determined to save the victims of the Green Circle, first with Crow, and others too. A cause Yuuri could believe in, and something he could feasibly achieve. It's taken a year to get to this point, but Yuuri is ready, more determined than ever.

At twelve minutes to midnight, Yuuri goes back to his desk and turns on his equipment. With the transmitter ready, he taps out his message, numbers replacing the letters that replaced his native syllables. 

_Knight acknowledges. Castle is ready._

~*~

On January 7, late at night, Yuuri looks up from his book to a series of knocks on the door. He narrows his eyes and rises from his bed, crossing the darkened living room silently. In the front hall, he lifts an old mask from a past festival and slides it over his face, before he walks over to the door and leans against it. Adopting a confused voice, he murmurs, "I could have sworn I heard something outside."

Three knocks, one rap, two more knocks.

Yuuri takes a small breath, perhaps to calm his stuttering heart, and opens the door. Outside stands an imposing figure swathed in white ski gear, a second, shorter figure standing behind them. Yuuri steps aside, allowing the two people inside, idly thinking that the taller one is rather buff, a visible bulge over their stomach. Not his business if Crow gained some weight recently -- Yuuri is rather bad at maintaining a good weight himself.

"The outside hatch is covered in snow, so you'll have to enter from inside here," he says instead, his English muffled. Crow nods to him, and Sparrow looks around nervously, but neither person takes off their mask, nor their clothes. Bemoaning the mess the melting snow will make, Yuuri closes the door and locks it, then leads the two through his house to a closet in the back, kneeling down to lift up the floor board inside, revealing a ladder that descends downward. Crow waves a flashlight over the small opening, then hands it to Sparrow and carefully climbs into the crawl space, descending into the dark. Yuuri waits patiently, Sparrow tense beside him.

" _Bezopasno,_ " Crow calls up, and Yuuri realizes by his voice that Crow is male. Sparrow seems to sigh, then climbs down after Crow, and Yuuri waits until they have reached the bottom before following.

Beneath the main part of the house is a wide basement, large enough for two cots, a tiny kitchen area, a stove that vents outside, and even a small toilet walled off in the corner. He got this house through one of his parents' friends, a man old enough to have survived the wars of old, who dabbled in fallout shelters. An odd hobby for a modern-day Japanese man, but Yuuri did not complain -- instead, he outfitted the tiny shelter with food and supplies over the course of several months, all in preparation for the day he could help rescue one of the Green Circle victims.

"As you can see, there's a bed for each of you, and a toilet over there, and clothes in those shelves. For baths, you'll have to come upstairs. I usually take baths in the evening so any time after that is fine. You have your own food in the kitchen, but if you need anything, send me a message on WhatsApp. If it's not safe, I'll send you a message. Is that alright?" Yuuri asks, keeping his nerves in check -- he is speaking to the infamous Crow, after all, and if rumors are to be believed, Crow can probably hear his heart beating right now, and any lies he tells.

Yuuri would never lie, anyway. He is nervous, though.

Crow pulls at the mask over his face, but leaves his goggles on, revealing pale skin. "That is fine," he says quietly, and something in his voice catches Yuuri's attention. It sounds familiar, but he cannot place it at all. He shrugs off the déjà vu. "Thank you for this, Knight. For all of it."

Yuuri nods, glancing between Crow and Sparrow, a small smile touching his lips as he relaxes. They made it. They really made it here, safely, without anyone following them. All the way from Russia to Yuuri's small house in Hasetsu, just one more step in their escape from the Green Circle. "I'm happy to help," he says, meaning it, and something in Crow's and Sparrow's postures relaxes at his words, perhaps hearing his smile.

Yuuri nods to them both and climbs back up the ladder, carefully replacing the floor panel in the closet, aware that his footsteps are audible to the two hiding below his house. They are _here_ , though, for the next several weeks at least, until their next contact finishes the final step of their journey through Japan to escape.

How he will deal with two Green Circles living under him, Yuuri has no idea -- he will have to be very careful. One wrong move, and they will all be dead.


	2. against the horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** There is an intense scene with mild violence in this chapter.

_He is dreaming of blue eyes that turn green, of a whiff of cologne, of soft lips that twist up in a smile and open to say,_

"Yuuri."

Yuuri wakes suddenly, disoriented as he squints in the darkness. The small digital clock reads 7:01, almost thirty minutes earlier than Yuuri's usual time to rise. He frowns, irritated for a moment, disliking that he woke before his alarm, and for no discernable reason.

"Yuri, don't be like that. Makkachin wouldn't like that."

He jolts when he hears his name mixed with Russian, muffled through the floorboards, and he realizes it belongs to Crow. He wonders wildly how Crow could know it. When Yuuri had first heard the mysterious voice on the radio and managed to contact Alces, the person intent on saving Crow, they had agreed early on to avoid using their names, for fear of their messages being intercepted. Maybe if Crow had matched his address with the coordinates he gave to Alces... but then, Yuuri had made sure that his address wasn't listed anywhere. He is not the only hacker in the world, though.

"Fuck off," snaps another voice, deep and masculine, and Yuuri realizes it must be Sparrow. "Fine, just cover your ears, I don't want you to listen to me piss. Who designed this tiny, shitty toilet, anyway?"

"It doesn't bother me, Yuri!" says Crow, amusement tingeing his voice, something musical to his words. Yuuri thinks Crow sounds far too cheerful for the early hour, let alone his situation. "After all, we crossed half of Russia, the Korean peninsula, and Japan together! Why, I've seen more of you than even --"

"Just _shut up,_ for fuck's sake, and let me piss in peace." Yuuri hears a muffled slam, and he winces, not liking this new development. Not at all.

Crow and Sparrow were utterly quiet for the first day, enough that Yuuri had occasional doubts that they were still downstairs, until he heard muffled noises in the afternoon. Nothing like this, voices through his floorboards, and he curses his own ignorance, that he did not think of sound carrying through the walls and floors. His bedroom is right over the hideaway, but surely someone at the front of the house would also be able to hear it? He will need to test that later.

_It's going to be strange hearing my name downstairs. I'll just have to pretend I didn't hear it._

He picks up his phone and opens WhatsApp, entering the phone number Crow gave him the other day, a bit nervous for using the messaging service, but he likes the encryption on it and the ease of use.

 **+1 ********84**  
**Knight:** _I'm sorry to bother you, but I can hear you talking._

He gets a response a moment later. 

**Crow:** _I'm sorry for waking you. I'll let S know._

Yuuri breathes out, a little relieved that Crow does not seem upset. He doesn't like that he is essentially spying on a conversation, and he'll have to look around at the hardware store later for insulation materials. He lies awake for a little while, and he hears a muffled voice speak again, but it is quieter now and he cannot discern the words. Good, then. If he ever has visitors or a raid happens, they will have to be very careful, but he trusts that Crow and Sparrow, who have training he can only dream of, will be able to handle any situation that occurs.

Ah, a whole new set of anxieties to stress over. Yuuri is very good at stressing about things, though.

When his alarm goes off, Yuuri exhales and sits up, exhausted, his eyes dried out as if he has hardly slept. As he slumps his way to the washroom, he hears a muffled noise, almost like a bark, and turns his head toward the window, frowning. _There shouldn't be any dogs all the way out here._

Then he shrugs it off. In the woods nearby are a few paths; it wouldn't be the first time someone has taken their dog out for a walk, even in the snow.

He doesn't think about it again.

~*~

Four days after Crow and Sparrow arrive, a new post appears on one of the forums Yuuri frequents invisibly. The post is about the Strike Task Force and random raids that are happening all across Japan, something that has been brewing for weeks -- but there are extra details now. 

> _When you track the raids, they begin in October in Russia, then spread to South Korea, and now they're in Japan. They're following a pattern, like a person traveling from Russia to Japan by avoiding mainland China. And they're asking about foreigners and "suspicious people."_
> 
> _I've been listening to the radio lately... there have been a couple of weird messages. I can't figure the whole thing out, but I'll post what I have on IIRC. All I can figure out is that it has to do with Crow._
> 
> _Guys, I think Crow escaped from Russia, and I think they're in Japan._

  
Yuuri groans, hating that people can be so observant. He's torn about whether he should block the information or make the post 'mysteriously' disappear. With a grumble, he flicks open WhatsApp half-heartedly to check if Crow has left him any messages, and he blinks to see a notification.

 **Crow:** _Alces says to ignore the underground rumors about us. He wants it leaked. Our hunters already know we're here, so it's better for everybody to know, right? He's going to spread more rumors to get them off our trail._

Bemused, Yuuri adjusts his glasses, casting a glance at the floor. So far, Crow and Sparrow have asked for little, and they haven't woken Yuuri up again at odd hours. They have remained quiet, and were their presences not weighing heavily on Yuuri's conscious, he could almost forget that they are in his house.

 **Knight:** _I just saw a post about that. Are you reading my mind, by chance?_

 **Crow:** _hahaha! I'm good, but not that good. Sparrow says you should stop thinking so loudly, though._

Yuuri stiffens abruptly, and a moment later he hears a laugh downstairs. The tension bleeds out of him, and he shakes his head, exasperated.

 **Knight:** _I'm not entirely sure you're kidding._

 **Crow:** _Don't worry, don't worry! We can't hear thoughts or anything like that. The most we can hear is your heartbeat. The heart tells a lot about a person, you know._

Despite himself, Yuuri is interested. Few people know about the abilities of the Green Circles, only speculation and what has been observed through shaky videos, and he is hard-pressed to pass up the opportunity to learn more.

 **Knight:** _Really? I knew that someone's heart rate can tell when they are lying, but what else can you tell about someone?_

 **Crow:** _Many things. Sometimes people train themselves not to give anything away when they lie, but usually there's a small tick in their heartbeat. Stress, anxiety, and fear will increase adrenaline, which increases your heart rate. When the rate is even and steady, it usually means you are calm, happy, or in love. It varies a lot, and while we were trained to listen for signs of stress, I've found that listening for signs of happiness is just as telling. Steady heartbeats don't always mean that the person is not an enemy, but it does mean that they are less likely to act irrationally and, say, shoot us without thinking. Haha!_

The message takes longer than Crow's usual replies, but when it appears, Yuuri reads the wall of text eagerly, fascinated by what Crow says -- and what he doesn't say. He is tempted to ask about Crow's training, but he considers that a gross invasion of Crow's privacy, so he refrains.

 **Knight:** _Wow, I didn't know any of that. It sounds a little terrifying, to be honest._

 **Crow:** _Really? It's been a part of my life for so long, I don't find it strange at all._

 **Knight:** _It's not strange... just different. You can't help it, after all._

This time Crow does not reply for several minutes. Yuuri frowns at his phone, wondering if he has stepped over a line, and worrying that he has said something wrong. He turns the messages over in his head, trying to read into every word to see what he said that bothered Crow, and it gives him pause, enough to put an ache in his chest. He really shouldn't make assumptions.

Yuuri finally gives up and goes to make some lunch. When he returns, noodles in hand, he opens his phone reflexively and sees a new message. The tightness in his chest lessens.

 **Crow:** _You're an interesting person, Knight._

Yuuri takes a deep breath as he sits down, the steam from his noodles fogging his glasses a bit. He wonders if Crow and Sparrow are eating enough. He wonders if they are sleeping well, waiting for the next part of their journey. He wonders if they ever feel safe. He wonders if Crow listens to his heartbeat often.

 **Knight:** _I think you're far more interesting, of the two of us._

 **Crow:** _So you say... but very few people would open their home to strangers on the run. I'm still not sure if you mean us harm or not, but I still appreciate everything you've done._

 **Knight:** _I don't mean you harm, and I never will. I know that doesn't mean much, since you can't hear whether I’m lying over a text message. But I want to help you, even if it puts me in danger. Nobody deserves what's been done to you._

Once again, Crow doesn't reply, but Yuuri smiles to himself and focuses on his lunch, not bothered by the lack of messages. This, at least, is something he believes in.

~*~

His shift that day is only a few hours long, so after Yuuri finishes, he goes to Ice Castle to relax for a while. Yuuko beams at him when he enters the lobby, leaning over the counter to greet him. Thankfully, her three daughters are nowhere in sight -- the nine-year-olds rather like hanging onto Yuuri whenever he visits, since he can do interesting things like triple axel jumps. He's glad he cannot do quads any longer, because they would surely overwhelm him if they knew about those.

"Yuuri-kun! How have you been? You live so far out of town now, I hardly ever see you!" Yuuko laments, and Yuuri gives her a smile, thinking that she is as pretty as ever.

"It's good to see you, Yuu-chan. I don't mind the distance, it's a nice walk. How are Takeshi and the girls?"

Yuuko is more than happy to tell Yuuri all about her family's shenanigans, and Yuuri nods along as he listens, not really minding the chatter, despite wanting to go skating. He has always admired Yuuko from their days skating together, and he misses it sometimes -- the feel of ice beneath his feet, the cold air as he spins. Skating had always been an escape for him, though he had not been as fervent about it as Yuuko, who still follows the skating community religiously and is always watching international competitions.

As Yuuri contemplates how best to interrupt so that he can rent a pair of skates, Yuuko rambles on, the conversation moving from her children to her house, and then her neighbors.

"And poor Saito-san, she had such a scare the other day when the Strike Task Force searched her house. I don't want the girls walking home alone if there are suspicious people about!"

The hairs on the back of Yuuri's neck stand up. He carefully turns his gaze from the rows of skates behind her, his lips pursing. "They searched her house? What did they do that for?"

Yuuko frowns, looking past Yuuri at the darkening sky outside. "They wouldn't tell her or her husband. They just asked her if she had seen anybody suspicious. She said the officers were very rude, and they left a mess, but they left her alone after that. I heard that some of the houses across the bay also had searches like that, though."

 _Shit. I need to tell Crow as soon as possible. If they suspect Crow and Sparrow are here..._ "That's horrible. You and Takeshi don't work at the same time, right? So one of you can walk the girls to school, at least."

Yuuko nods, her mien relaxing a bit. "Yeah, I'd prefer to do that. It's really scary when this kind of stuff happens right in our neighborhood."

"Mm, you're right. It is awful," Yuuri murmurs, following Yuuko's gaze to the glass doors. "Ah, it's getting dark... I better head back after all."

Yuuko blinks, then pouts. "But you didn't get to skate tonight! I'm sorry, Yuuri-kun, I didn't mean to talk your ear off. You can always stay, you know I don't mind you skating after hours."

Shaking his head, Yuuri zips up his coat again, not looking forward to the cold walk home. "Don't worry about it, Yuu-chan. I'll come back later this week, okay? You take care, and tell Takeshi I say hi." He smiles at her rueful gaze and pulls his mask over his mouth again, returning Yuuko's wave before he quietly leaves.

As he walks toward the bus stop, Yuuri pulls out his phone and opens WhatsApp.

 **Knight:** _They're doing raids on houses in my town. I haven't seen any official notices, but my friend's neighbor got searched. They're looking for "suspicious individuals."_

 **Crow:** _That's unfortunate. I'd hoped we would have stayed ahead of them... Alces said they are searching all over Japan, so I don't think they actually know we are here. Keep a sharp eye out, though._

 **Knight:** _I will. I'm coming home now. Stay safe._

He doesn't bother looking at his messages again; instead he picks up his pace, wanting to be home as fast as he can.

His house is where he left it, and nothing is out of place. Yuuri had known nothing had happened, since Crow hadn't messaged him, but he still feels relief when he steps into the entryway, sighing deeply. He drops his keys in a small bowl on the shelves next to the entryway and slides off his shoes, thinking a bath sounds amazing right now after his long, cold walk.

~*~

Yuuri is rubbing a towel through his hair when he hears a heavy thump downstairs, followed immediately by what he can only assume to be barking. He stills, turning a blank stare to the floor of his bedroom, wondering if he misheard. He hears a sharp shushing noise, and there it is again: barking. Unless Yuuri is going insane, there is a dog downstairs.

He remembers odd noises over the past several days. Muffled barks, as if someone were walking their dog nearby, but the location was odd. He hadn't thought about it -- but now the pieces of information come together to form a frankly ridiculous connection.

How the hell had Crow and Sparrow smuggled a dog into his house? When had they done it? As far as he knows, the outside latch for the basement is still covered in snow -- oh. Yuuri's panicking thoughts pause on the memory of his first look at Crow. He thinks of the bulge of Crow's stomach, and he has to cover his face for a few moments, unable to process that Crow smuggled a dog into his house by hiding it under his coat.

"You have got to be kidding me," he mutters, then crosses the room to his phone to pull up WhatsApp.

 **Knight:** _I can't believe you. Do you seriously have a dog down there? What on earth were you thinking?_

 **Crow:** _I'm so sorry. Please let her stay. She's a very good dog! She just got startled! Please, she's my best friend. I couldn't leave her behind. Please!_

 **Crow:** _She's very well behaved!_

 **Crow:** _Please. I'll do anything. I'd be lost without her. She's my Makkachin!_

Yuuri exhales, covering his face again, his anger bleeding out of him. Crow's desperation hurts him, jarring an old wound in his heart -- he had once had a dog, when he was a child, and he remembers loving Vicchan so much that his heart had stayed broken for years after Vicchan's death. He understands the love an owner can have for their pet. Crow's dog is probably the only friend he has, now, other than Sparrow and Alces. For a moment, Yuuri contemplates the ability of a man to smuggle a dog across four countries without once giving away the dog's presence, impressed despite himself.

Still, there is only so much Yuuri can take.

 **Knight:** _It's okay. She can stay. I just can't believe you kept a dog in a room for four days! A dog can't stay cooped up in a room all day! They need to run around and go outside and do their business!_

He really hopes that the basement doesn't reek of dog piss. That's no way to live. He'll need to get more cleaning supplies to pass downstairs if that's the case.

 **Crow:** _I took her outside when you weren't home and nobody was around! It was fine!_

 **Crow:** _Don't worry! I trained Makkachin to use the toilet anyway!_

"Oh, well, I guess," Yuuri mutters, reeling a little from the mental image of a dog using the toilet, then starts typing again, his fingers flying over the screen. He doesn't give Crow a chance to argue.

 **Knight:** _That's impressive, but she still needs regular exercise and fresh air, and the food I supplied for you guys is not meant for a dog. What does she like? Dry food or wet food? I'll go to the store and get her some food and proper bowls. And if you trust me enough, I can take her outside to pee or go on walks. Her name is Makkachin? Tell Makkachin that her owner is an idiot and that I'll be back soon with proper food for her._

Muttering to himself in Japanese and not caring that Crow and Sparrow can hear, let alone understand, Yuuri grabs his wallet and goes to find his coat, putting on a breathing mask and not caring that he is wearing sweats. Nobody will look twice at his clothes anyway. "Poor Makkachin. Idiot Crow. I'll get her a toy too, so that she's not bored. Maybe some treats. I can't believe him!"

He is fumbling with his hat, damp hair sticking to the back of his neck, when he hears a thump down the hall, seconds before the closet door slides open. Yuuri startles badly and whirls around, gaping to see a man crawling out of the closet, and he hurriedly turns around before he can see the man's face. "You -- you shouldn't let me see you," he squeaks, his mind going over the small glimpse that he saw. Silver hair. Crow has silver hair? Or is it Sparrow?

"It's fine," says the man with Crow's voice, and something in his tone niggles at Yuuri's memory, but he is too distracted to pay much attention to it. Yuuri refuses to turn around, though, wanting to keep that protection between them. He stands still as footsteps approach, his shoulders stiffening to know that a very lethal man is approaching him with intentions unknown. A bare hand grabs his wrist, and Yuuri flinches, expecting violence.

Instead something is pushed into his hand, before Crow lets him go. He doesn't move away from Yuuri, though, and for a few moments, only their breathing exists between them, the silence deafening. He slowly relaxes as Crow does nothing else, cautiously accepting that Crow doesn't mean him harm. Yuuri slowly lifts his hand, opening his fingers carefully, what he finds stuns him yet again.

A small wad of Japanese cash, rolled up with a rubber band. Yuuri is afraid of all the zeroes he sees. Just how much did Crow give him?!

Then Crow speaks, his lyrical voice washing over Yuuri's ears, calm and low. "Makkachin likes wet food. I'm not sure about Japanese brands, but she's always liked pork and chicken. Spend however much you need. Price doesn't matter for Makkachin. You can keep whatever you don't spend."

Yuuri swallows, holding the wad of money away from him as if it might bite him. "I can't accept this! I'll -- I'll get whatever she needs and give the rest back to you."

"Please, keep it. You're the first person to care about Makkachin... that means the world to me. Consider it repayment for everything else, too. The money doesn't matter to me."

"But... Crow -- I can't accept..."

"Please accept it. Makkachin's been very good, and I know it sounds bad, but we feed her no matter where we go, rice and meat and dog food if we can get our hands on it. I take very good care of her, as best as I can in this situation. If it ever comes down to it, I've even given her my food. But... proper food would be amazing. I really am grateful, Knight."

For a moment, Yuuri wants to see the expression that matches such a tone. He wants to see the person who would risk torture from every major world government to protect his dog.

"Makkachin must be very special," Yuuri murmurs, carefully unfurling the wad of cash and pulling out several bills to put in his wallet, trying to ignore the knowledge of holding so much money. He puts the rest of it in a box at the bottom of one of his shelves beside the entryway, not wanting to carry it around outside the house, still careful not to turn around. When Yuuri stands again, Crow steps closer, until Yuuri can feel the heat of him at his back. A clean scent washes over him for a moment, and Yuuri breathes in slowly.

"She is. Maybe when you get back, you'd like to meet her? She's a standard poodle, and she's very sweet."

Yuuri inhales, wanting suddenly, very much, to meet Makkachin. He wonders if she looks anything like Vicchan. "I'd -- I'd like that. I had a miniature poodle once... they're good dogs."

Crow huffs a small laugh, as if surprised, and finally steps away from Yuuri. "They are. Thank you again, Knight."

Yuuri shakes his head, taking a few steps to the door, then pausing. He turns slightly, cautious not to look behind him, his face flushing a little. "You don't have to keep thanking me... I really am happy to help. I'm sorry I yelled at you. Well... text-yelled at you." He twists his keys in his fingers for a moment, then straightens his shoulders. " _Ittekimasu._ Um... it means I'll be back soon." He hasn't said that to anyone in years.

When Crow speaks, Yuuri can hear the smile in his voice. " _Itterasshai._ Makkachin and I will be waiting. Take care."

Yuuri flushes all over, warmed by the response and surprised that Crow even knew it. With an awkward little bow, he quickly leaves the house, locking the door behind him and heading down the hill into town. He feels strange carrying so much cash, but he is determined to get the best for Makkachin.

His mind lingers on Crow, though, and the flash of silver hair that he saw before he turned around. He has seen hair like that before -- he knows the sight of it well, by this point. So does everybody in Japan.

_No... it can't be._

Yuuri doesn't stop thinking about it, though.

_Blue eyes that turn green. A whiff of cologne. Soft lips that twist up in a smile. Silver hair falling over half his face -- and a glowing green circle on his back._

No... surely not.

~*~

Yuuri's ability to lie is rather good, enough that the store assistant accepts his story about a neighbor dropping their dog off at his house before leaving the country indefinitely, with no supplies and no food. It's not a bad cover, in case Yuuri ever takes Makkachin for a walk and someone sees him with the dog, since everyone in Hasetsu knows him and his family. His close friends and family might see through the story -- after all, his only friends are Takeshi and Yuuko -- but Yuuri doesn't think it will be that big of a deal.

He goes all out for Makkachin. Several cans of good, high quality dog food, four toys, a leash and collar, food and water bowls, and a large bag of flavored treats that Yuuri cannot resist, because he used to buy them for Vicchan. The total makes him cringe, but he hands over the bills silently, hoping that the cashier does not notice his hand shaking. She seems too impressed with him to notice, though, and is rather pleased with the large sale -- most people would have taken the dog to the police instead of taking care of it, she tells him, which bothers Yuuri.

People can be unnecessarily cruel. He hopes Makkachin likes the treats.

" _Tadaima..._ "

When Yuuri lets himself into his house, heaving two bulging bags into the entryway and dropping them quickly with a groan, he is startled by a happy bark, moments before large paws land on his chest. He goes down with a yelp, scrambling to grasp the warm body that has pushed him down, and he finds soft, curly fur. When he looks down, Yuuri gasps to see a much larger Vicchan-lookalike. Makkachin licks his face, nosing at his mask to get at his mouth, and Yuuri laughs and cranes his head back to escape her kisses.

"She's so much bigger than Vicchan! Hi, Makkachin," Yuuri says, smiling softly at Makkachin and ruffling her ears. He pushes himself up and gently nudges the dog off him, admiring her soft brown coat, thinking she really does look like Vicchan. It saddens him a little, but he pushes the ache aside, brightening and reaching for the bags. "Look what I got you!" He rummages through the bag for one of the toys he bought, then stills when he hears Crow's voice.

"Wow, she really likes you. I'm so glad! Makkachin has a great sense of character."

Yuuri looks up without thinking, and he gapes. Viktor Nikiforov is standing in his house, smiling as he watches Makkachin nose through the bags. He looks a little older than Yuuri's memory of him, the skin beneath his eyes darkened and his hair hanging around his face, but he is every bit as beautiful as every picture of him Yuuri has seen. 

And so very, very dangerous.

"Oh, shit," Yuuri says.

Viktor's blue eyes crinkle, obviously amused by his shock, though they also convey a hint of nervousness. Then his eyebrows furrow as he studies Yuuri, and wariness enters his expression.

"You... look familiar, Knight. Have we met somehow?"

Yuuri stares blankly at him, stunned that Viktor even recognizes him, and more stunned that Viktor Nikiforov is Crow. How had he missed that? Nowhere in any of the forums, chats, or secret messages of the past seven years has anyone even found a hint at Crow's identity.

It's one thing to hide a Green Circle from the government. It's quite another to hide the infamous Viktor Nikiforov, a top official in the Russian military.

"Iida Media," Yuuri blurts out, then covers his mouth, mortified. Viktor's face slackens with surprise, and they stare at each other for a long moment. Makkachin whines and looks between them, sensing the tension and reacting to it, but neither tries to comfort her. "I was an intern... I walked in and saw... saw your circle. I didn't know what it was then. I didn't know you were Crow. I knew you were a Green Circle but I never told anyone and I had no idea you were Crow, I swear, I didn't know!"

A clatter arises down the hall, cutting off Yuuri's babbling, and moments later a blond teenager stumbles out of the closet, carrying a gun. Yuuri shrieks and covers his head as the teenager comes barreling down the hall, certain that he is about to die -- and then Viktor throws out an arm and catches the teenager, flipping him and pulling the gun from his hand before pinning him to the hallway floor.

"It's fine, Yuri," Viktor says, his eyes remaining on Yuuri cowering against the door. Makkachin barks worriedly, and the noise makes Yuuri flinch. 

"What the fuck do you mean it's fine?" the teenager screams, twisting under Viktor's grip, his eyes flaring bright green. "You told me you weren't going to show your face! He recognizes you! Don't tell him my name, you shit!"

"Everybody in Japan recognizes me," Viktor says, flippant. "And I'm pretty sure he already heard your name two days ago." Keeping the gun pointed down, Viktor presses a small switch on the side of it, but the act terrifies Yuuri even more. He has very little experience with guns, but he has a healthy fear of them, and this situation is so far out of his ability to handle effectively that he cannot help the whimper that escapes him. He covers his face again, fear rising sour in the back of his throat, and for a moment there is silence.

Then Makkachin noses at his face, licking the tears that Yuuri hadn't even realized were trickling down his cheeks, and Yuuri exhales in surprise, cautiously lifting his head. Viktor still has the teenager, Yuri, pinned, but the gun has been tucked out of sight, and seeing his empty hand relaxes Yuuri a little.

Only a little, though.

"See, Makkachin would never act like that to someone we shouldn't trust," Viktor says, squeezing the back of Yuri's neck before letting go of him. The teen scrambles to his feet, long blonde hair falling in his face. He looks about eighteen, a little shorter than Viktor, and his eyes are still bright green. Viktor's eyes have also changed to that eerie glowing green, and the sight of it drags Yuuri back to seven years ago, when he first met Viktor Nikiforov in person.

"I'm sorry we scared you, Knight. I guess it's time we had a proper talk, face to face!" Viktor smiles, unfazed by the snarl from Yuri, who glares at Yuuri over Viktor's shoulder.

It doesn't calm Yuuri down at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, Crow is Viktor, Sparrow is Yurio, and Yuuri is oblivious as usual. ;D
> 
> This is set about 3 years in the future, so Yuuri is 26, Viktor is 30, and Yuri is 18. I don't know how old Makkachin is per YOI canon, or even Makkachin's gender, but I went with female because why not, and fudged her age a bit so that she's not very old. I think Viktor got her when he was a teenager in canon, but let's just pretend it was a bit later here.
> 
> In case anybody worries about Viktor taking Makkachin with him, keep in mind that it is perfectly safe to feed your dog things like rice, meat, and vegetables like sweet potatoes and such, instead of prepared dog food. Victor's the type of person to dote on Makkachin no matter what, and there will be more details about their journey in coming chapters. Just trust that Viktor will do anything to protect Makkachin and took good care of her while on the run. There's a lot he isn't telling Yuuri, too.
> 
>  _Ittekimasu_ , _itterasshai_ , and _tadaima_ are all sayings for leaving/returning to your house in Japan. [Here is a neat article about them if you want to know more.](https://nihongoshark.com/japanese-greetings/)
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	3. churning mists

The silence in the living room wraps tightly around Yuuri's shoulders, leaving them hunched and forcing him to remain mute with discomfort. Yuuri sits completely still on the couch, gripping his knees as he stares down at his feet. Viktor is sitting beside him, relaxed with his legs crossed loosely, his ankle hanging over his knee, and his eyes are no longer that vivid, unsettling green. Even though it is _Viktor Nikiforov,_ the worst source of Yuuri's unease stands across the room, leaning against the wall beside the television, his glowing gaze fixed on Yuuri menacingly. Ignoring the tension, Makkachin hops onto the sofa to drape herself over Viktor's lap, watching Yuuri curiously.

"Yuri, won't you sit? It's hard to have a civil conversation with you acting like this," Viktor says, as if this is a completely normal situation. Yuuri starts a bit at hearing his name again, thinking that the conversation will get confusing very quickly.

"Fucking hell, Viktor, quit being so carefree about this! How do you know he's not working for the government?" Yuri snaps, uncrossing his arms to clench his fists. "I say we --"

"Yuri," Viktor says sharply, and the boy subsides.

Yuuri breathes out, glancing up from under his fringe, his gaze immediately darting away from the teen when his glare intensifies. "Um... if it's not too much trouble, could you call him Sparrow? It's a little confusing..."

"What?" Yuri snarls menacingly, and Yuuri flinches, his words stumbling over each other as he tries to explain.

"N-no offense! It's just that, my given name is also Yuuri, and every time you say it, it's a little..." He avoids looking at Sparrow again, reaching to his pocket to pull out his wallet and holding it out to show Viktor his ID, not looking up. Viktor leans over, touching the wallet gently, and Yuuri flushes a little at his closeness.

"Yuuri, huh? That's a coincidence," Viktor laughs, letting go of the wallet and leaning back. "That's fine with me. Or I can call him Yura or Yurio, which he doesn't mind."

Yuri stares at them both, shocked. "You have the same name as me? That's such bullshit. And don't call me Yurio, asshole! Why should I have to go by something different?"

Leaning back against the couch again, Viktor smiles, waving a hand to dismiss Yurio's words. Yuuri wonders privately if the teen is always this foul-mouthed. "It's his house after all. Between the three of us, I think we have enough nicknames and codenames to avoid confusion." Despite the circles under his eyes and the tension in the air, Viktor seems to be relaxing, one hand rubbing mindlessly through Makkachin's fur.

Yuuri likes Makkachin, at least. She had greatly enjoyed the new food before following them into the living room for their discussion, and it had softened Yuuri's heart, to watch her. She reminds him a lot of Vicchan, and it's been too long since he was around a dog. He misses it.

"So, Yuuri, how did you go from being an intern at Iida Media to... well, inviting the most wanted men on the planet into your house for criminal espionage?" Viktor asks, sounding too amused at his own defamation, though Yuuri can hear the underlying tone of honest curiosity. "Ah, but first! Yuuri, would you say that you have blue eyes?"

Yuuri blinks, flummoxed by the question, and turns his head to stare at Viktor. "Um... no? I don't have blue eyes."

Viktor's smile widens with a bit of satisfaction. "Humor me a little. Tell me you have blue eyes, hate dogs, and live in South America. Then tell me what you really think."

Caught off-guard by Viktor's smile, Yuuri does as he asks without questioning it. "Okay... um, I have blue eyes, I h-hate dogs, and I... live in South America. Is that okay?" Viktor nods, gesturing for him to continue, so Yuuri does, a small notion of what Viktor is actually asking occurring to him. "I actually have brown eyes, I love dogs, especially poodles of all sizes, and I live in Hasetsu, Japan. Were you... getting me to lie?"

"Very good!" Viktor beams, scratching behind Makkachin's ears. "It gives us a baseline for your typical heartrate. Now Yurio and I will be able to tell if you're lying. No pressure, of course!"

"Ha... ha." Yuuri finds that more than a little terrifying, but he knows he isn't going to lie, at least. He just hopes that they believe him anyway. "Well... I interned at Iida Media one summer while I was in college. Back then, I didn't really know anything about the corruption in government or anything about the Green Circle. I just wanted some experience in the industry I had chosen, and my professor found the opportunity for me." Sighing, he leans back against the sofa, a little more at ease now, even with Yurio still glaring at him.

"I hated it. I realized that everyone was lying... that the news couldn't be trusted to report anything truthfully. It disgusted me, how much they didn't report, because it didn't fit the _proper_ image of the government, or certain officials, or various industry leaders. At first I wanted to prove them wrong, maybe find another news outlet to publish the truth, so I started taking information home. I tried to email a couple of websites, but they never posted anything, and I started feeling paranoid about what I was doing... it was scary. I was more than ready to quit and change my major by the end of it."

Viktor lets out a low noise of agreement. "Mainstream media has always been controlled by the government. Even back then, they monitored emails and databases for information that they didn't want released. It wasn't always that way."

Yuuri smiles a bit at Viktor's sigh. "Maybe. There has always been censorship, though. Probably not near today's levels..."

"What the hell does this have to do with anything?" Yurio interjects, stomping his foot with poorly restrained irritation. "We're not here to talk about the fuck-ups of the government!"

"Isn't it all related?" Viktor challenges, and Yurio subsides with another glare. "Go on, Knight."

Yuuri had tensed up when Yurio snapped at them, but he nods a little at Viktor's easy smile and relaxes against the couch again. "You wanted to know how I came to be like this... so." He shrugs at Yurio's scoff, his eyes dropping to Makkachin, who huffs at him and wriggles around so that she can push her head into his hand. Yuuri smiles a little and pets her as she wishes.

"I met Viktor on the last day of my internship. There was a dressing room that nobody used where I could sneak away and have a break when my supervisor wasn't looking. When I walked in, Viktor was there getting dressed, and I saw his circle. I recognized Viktor, since he was already famous in Japan, but I didn't know what the circle was. It shocked me, and it shocked me even more that Viktor didn't do anything to me. Especially when I learned more about it a few years later." He takes a deep breath, then forces himself to look over at Viktor, not knowing what to expect from him.

Viktor lifts his gaze from Yuuri's fingers combing through Makkachin's curls, a finger pressed to his cheek. "Hm... I remember that day. I thought you were rather interesting."

Yuuri's face immediately turns pink. "Eh? What?"

Viktor ignores the gagging sound Yurio makes, patting Makkachin's rump affectionately. "I was never sure if you actually saw it. So you didn't know what it was?"

 _Viktor thought I was interesting... no. Focus. Ignore that, he was probably joking._ Yuuri shakes his head, remembering the long hours he spent searching for information on the Green Circle, sighing a little. "No, I had no idea back then. Japan's media censorship was already strong at that point, and I could barely find anything on the internet. I couldn’t research it properly for a couple years, but I always thought about it.

"I got into conspiracy websites around then. I joined the old Coastline forums at one point, before they were shut down. Someone had posted a video of Crow stopping a tank with one hand in a Middle Eastern country... it shook me. I started collecting the videos and pictures and all information people posted, because the posts kept disappearing, especially the ones that mentioned the Green Circle. I still didn't know what it was, but I made... friends, if you can call them friends, who hated the censorship and lies as much as I did. One of them got me into shortwave radio, and that's how I heard Alces' message and got in touch with him. The rest just kind of fell into place."

Yuuri shrugs, gently fluffing the curls around Makkachin's ears, smiling a bit when she licks his fingers. Yurio is still glaring at him, but when Yuuri glances up at him nervously, he notices that the vivid green glow of his eyes is gone. Viktor's keen blue eyes are fixed on Yuuri's face, one finger rubbing his lips contemplatively.

"Do you still have the information you collected?" Viktor asks after a moment. "I wouldn't mind seeing it."

Yuuri blinks, looking back at Viktor, a little surprised. Immediately a touch of nausea settles in his stomach at the thought of sharing his most secret collection, which he has never dared to show anyone. Then again... if anyone deserved to see it, it would be Crow. "I can get it out for you. It's in code, though, so I'm not sure how much you'll be able to read... I wrote it in several languages."

"Oh? What languages?"

Yuuri flushes a little, self-conscious. "Japanese, English, and Russian, mostly. Some Thai and Spanish... I had a roommate from Thailand."

"Wow," Viktor admires, and he opens his mouth to say more, though Yurio interrupts then, pacing agitatedly along the wall.

"So, what, you became an anarchist and decided to help us out of the goodness of your heart? Give me a fucking break," Yurio spits, crossing the room in a few steps and stopping in front of Yuuri, pointing at him. "Tell me the truth. Why the fuck are you helping us?"

Yuuri jolts back, surprised by his vehemence, a frown touching his lips. Makkachin lifts her head at the return of the tense atmosphere, and Viktor gently pulls her back to his side, his figure relaxed, though his eyes do not stray from Yuuri and Yurio.

"Because it's the right thing to do," Yuuri says after a moment.

"I said the _truth_ \--"

"It _is_ the truth," Yuuri snaps, his irritation overriding his fear for a moment. "I don't know what you've been through. I can tell you what I've seen, though. Kids and teenagers disappearing off the streets all over Asia. And it's not just kids anymore, a lot more adults are disappearing too. All for this Green Circle program. And nobody will report about it! Everything is censored now, because of laws passed in all sorts of supposedly 'free' countries that restrict us more every day. Every major world government is up to their eyeballs in deceit and decay, and behind everything is this program that takes innocent people and turns them into soldiers in the most inhumane way possible. It's disgusting, and it horrifies me every day that I can't do anything about it. If they ever figure out how much I know, I'm dead. I don't _care_. I'll keep fighting them, and I'll help you even if you don't trust me. Because it _is_ the right thing to do, and I want to do it. This is all I can do."

A beat of silence passes, and Yurio's face twists into something ferocious and wild, his fair features turned ugly with old pain and hate. He takes a step forward, leaning into Yuuri's space and putting a jolt of fear into his heart. "You think that _you_ have suffered more than us, than _me_ \--"

"No!" Yuuri's reply is immediate, his eyes widening. "That's exactly what I _don't_ think! I don't know what you've been through! I would never imply that what I've seen is worse! You're the ones who have suffered most of all! I just want to _help_!"

For a few moments, Yurio stands frozen in front of Yuuri, his breathing irregular and forced, his fists clenched at his sides. Then he gives a wordless shout and turns sharply on his heel, stalking out of the room faster than Yuuri can see. Somewhere in the house, a door slams.

Yuuri stares at the empty space in shock, and until Makkachin tries to climb into his lap and lick his face, he does not realize how tense he is. Slowly he relaxes again, his shoulders easing from their hunched position against the couch cushions, and he sighs and opens his hands, which had been curled so tightly that he left indentions of his nails in his palms.

"Don't mind Yura," Viktor says softly beside him, making Yuuri jump. "He has been through a lot. He's upset right now, but he won't take it out on you."

Yuuri nods slowly, sinking back into the cushions with a sigh. "I don't blame him. It's not exactly a normal situation," he says, quiet in his own thoughts. 

Viktor huffs, a hint of surprise to the noise. "No, I can't say it is."

Makkachin whines a bit, and Yuuri softens, rubbing behind her ears with a small smile. "I still can't believe you brought your dog all the way from your country. You're so good, Makkachin, even if your owner is..." He stops himself before he calls Viktor something rude again, flushing, though he is startled when Viktor laughs.

"Makkachin is very good! Aren't you, Makkachin?" Viktor coos, leaning over to hug Makkachin from behind. His head brushes Yuuri's shoulder, and his heart rate picks up a bit at his closeness. Viktor doesn't seem to notice, or at least he doesn't comment on it. "Y--Alces couldn't find a home for her, and I didn't want my superiors to do anything to her to get my attention."

That gets Yuuri's attention, and he gives Viktor a sharp glance. "They would have hurt her?"

Viktor smiles as he sits up, though the expression holds no warmth, his gaze faraway for a moment. "I wouldn't put it past them. Or they might have used her to find me, and while Makkachin is very smart, she wouldn't have been able to avoid it. No matter what, I wanted to protect her."

Yuuri watches him for a long moment, touched, despite knowing it must have been dangerous, exponentially more so than simply traveling without a dog companion. He wonders if he could have done the same for Vicchan -- no, he knows he would have. The thought makes his chest ache briefly. "She's a very good dog," he finally says, scratching behind Makkachin's ears.

Viktor's gaze returns to his face, and the distant, otherworldly calm dissipates into something softer, more genuine. "Thank you," he says simply. 

Yuuri holds his gaze for a moment, until the thought that _this is Viktor Nikiforov_ creeps up, and he has to look away, still shocked. He had suspected... but to have Viktor sitting in his modest house is another thing entirely. He has so many questions he wants to ask, but he is afraid of overstepping his boundaries.

"You're thinking too loud again," Viktor says, and Yuuri's head snaps up, staring at him with wide eyes. For a moment Viktor's expression remains placid, before he suddenly breaks into laughter, gleeful at the sight of Yuuri's shock. "Sorry, sorry! I promise I can't read your mind! Your heart does this thing, you know, when you're uncertain about something. It's easy to tell. If you want to ask me something, go ahead, I'm sure you have questions."

Yuuri exhales, sinking back against the couch cushions at the sight of Viktor's smile, still unnerved. Viktor Nikiforov's personality on television had been charming, devastatingly handsome, and mysterious. None of this open emotion, which might just be the real Viktor. It's hard to tell, but Yuuri already likes this Viktor better than the one in the news.

"I wouldn't even know where to start," he hedges, aware that Yurio is somewhere in the house, listening. "It's just very strange, you know? They keep saying that you're recuperating on the news. I thought, maybe, something had happened, but I never imagined you would be Crow."

Viktor raises an eyebrow, casting his gaze to the blank television. "You could say something happened. Maybe I just finally lost my temper," he says with a little laugh, darker than any noise Yuuri has heard from him. He doesn't elaborate.

Yuuri nods slowly, not daring to ask more. The thought of something angering Viktor is more than a little horrifying, and while he is curious, he isn't going to ask Viktor to tell him. Of course, Viktor has no reason to trust him with that knowledge, and it would likely put Yuuri into even more danger.

He sighs. It would be nice if he wasn't constantly terrified for his life. Viktor glances over at him at the noise, and Yuuri shakes his head, gently dislodging Makkachin from his lap and standing.

"Since you're up here... would you like some tea? I should make dinner, too. It won't be much but it's probably loads better than the canned stuff downstairs," he offers, watching in bemusement as Viktor's face lights up.

"That sounds lovely, Knight! Would you like some assistance? I've got a dab hand at cooking myself," Viktor agrees, standing as Makkachin hops off the couch. Yuuri manages a nod, and Viktor leads the way into the kitchen, while Yuuri struggles to comprehend the impossible fact of making dinner with Viktor Nikiforov.

Yuuri takes a deep breath when he reaches the hallway, pausing by the only closed door, which leads to his modest washroom. He knocks quietly. "Um, Yuri? Sparrow? I'm going to make dinner if you'd like to eat in a little while."

He hears a shuffling noise behind the door. "I heard you already," Yurio snaps, slightly muffled, and Yuuri bites his lip, not wanting to argue. He figured Yurio had already heard him, with his superhuman hearing, but he didn't want to assume, and he would rather treat Yurio like a normal person. He waits a moment, but the teen doesn't say anything else, so Yuuri turns away to follow Viktor, who has paused at the kitchen doorway.

"...Thanks," he hears from the washroom, which relieves Yuuri. He didn't want Yurio to be upset with him.

Viktor has a small smile on his face, as if he doesn't quite believe what he is hearing, but is pleased with it all the same. Yuuri flushes and heads into the kitchen to start the rice cooker, though he pauses when he starts to measure out the rice. When he had managed to get Alces on WhatsApp, months ago when they began to plan this venture and before Alces had changed his number, Alces had warned him that Crow and Sparrow would eat more than a normal human, so he had supplied the bunker with a good amount of rice and canned goods.

"Um... Viktor, how much rice do you normally make for a meal?"

Viktor raises an eyebrow, leaning against the counter as he watches Yuuri. "Four cups dry, usually, for the two of us." He grins when Yuuri's jaw drops. "Right? I never ate that much as a kid, neither did Sparrow, but we have higher metabolism now. You can make us whatever you want, though, I'm sure it will be tasty!"

Yuuri makes five cups of rice. He eyes the rice cooker as it starts up, unsure that it will handle so much at once -- he's never made more than two cups in it before, and usually only one. Well, whatever Viktor and Yurio don't eat, he can save for later, and if there isn't any left, then he will consider them well-fed.

Usually his movements are mindless when he makes _katsudon_ , but now Viktor is watching him with keen-eyed interest, which is more than a little unnerving. Pork cutlets, _panko_ , eggs, onion... he decides to make the sauce from scratch this time, the way his mother makes it, instead of using the sauce in his cupboard. It tastes better homemade, and if he wants to impress Viktor a little, he doesn't allow the thought to last long in his head.

Viktor doesn't get in his way, but he does ask Yuuri questions constantly, about the kind of pork, about the sauce he plans to make, about what he plans to do with the eggs... Yuuri answers each question patiently, a little amused that he is suddenly the expert and not his mother.

"So you learned from your mom? Wow! She sounds amazing," Viktor says with a sigh, folding his arms against the counter as he watches Yuuri poke at the frying _tonkatsu_. 

Yuuri smiles, carefully turning the _tonkatsu_ over. "She is," he says quietly. "I don't see her as often as I'd like. She likes it when I stop by after work, but sometimes my shift runs late and I don't get to visit."

"It's nice that you can, though. I haven't seen my parents in years." Viktor's smile widens a little, though his gaze seems sad, faraway with old memories. Yuuri resists the urge to ask, but Viktor can definitely read minds, because his gaze sharpens a little. "You can ask, Yuuri. I don't mind. If I don't want to answer, then I won't, but please don't be afraid to ask me anything."

Yuuri blinks at him, startled, before a flush covers his face and he turns back to poking at the _tonkatsu_. "I, um... okay," he sighs. He takes a moment to lift the _tonkatsu_ out of the frying oil and sets them to drain on a rack, then turns to Viktor again, fidgeting a little. "Why did you choose this time to leave Russia? Alces said it was urgent, but you've been Crow for years, and you're so important to the public eye... I guess, I want to know what changed. What made Alces send that message?"

A beat passes, Viktor's surprise visible on his face; perhaps of all the questions Yuuri could have asked, that is the least likely -- yet it is the most important to Yuuri. Alces' message a year ago had been frantic, desperate, yet Viktor had been in the public eye as late as three months ago, working the world with a charming smile. What had changed?

Then Viktor smiles, and if it is a little empty of his earlier cheer, Yuuri doesn't point it out. "I didn't even know Yakov had sent those messages until long after, when the two of you had already arranged everything. I'm still a little angry about it, to be honest." 

"Yakov?" Yuuri asks, a little hesitant, and Viktor starts.

"Oh... Alces. His name is Yakov. Don't tell him I told you," Viktor says with a laugh, almost mischievous for a moment. He turns around to rest his hips against the counter, crossing his arms and gazing at the curtained window, his smile fading. "Yakov was someone I trusted as a child, when I was part of a skating club. He coached a lot of children, many of them orphans, and he had this friend who used the club to scout possible subjects for the Circle program. Yakov had no idea. This man picked out children who were loners, or didn't have parents, or were troublesome in school. Those children would disappear, and nobody would pay much attention. Until I disappeared. But that's my story, and that was years ago. Yakov didn't know about the program, nor that his friend was the cause behind the disappearances. He regretted not looking after us. But he kept coaching."

Yuuri stares at him, the food on the counter forgotten. Viktor glances past him at the hallway, his gaze considering. "What changed is that a year ago, Yakov found out about the program. He found out that his friend had taken another child that reminded him of me, but who still had family elsewhere in the world. That family notified him that the child was missing, and he started researching. He realized I was still alive, going by a new surname, and he contacted me. I told him what I knew, because I trusted him. Then he conspired to help me escape."

Viktor laughs a little, the sound rueful and fond. "He's an old softie, really, and he's too stubborn by far. I still can't believe he went to all this trouble for us."

"Wow," Yuuri murmurs, stunned. Alces had never told him any of this -- their conversations had been brief, to avoid detection, once they had both established that they knew about the Green Circles and weren't going to turn each other over to the government. It had been a very long process to establish that trust, but Yuuri is glad for it.

The rice cooker beeps then, and Yuuri starts at the noise. Viktor merely turns to look at the machine, and Yuuri realizes he stopped in the middle of preparing dinner. He starts water simmering on the stove, adding the spices needed for the _katsudon_ sauce, and leaves the onions to cook with the sauce, glancing up at Viktor again and meeting his gaze. "Thank you for telling me," he says quietly. "I'm sorry it happened like that. I'm glad you got out, though."

"You're as deep in this as we are," Viktor replies, his eyes remaining on Yuuri's face, oddly intense. At once, Yuuri is reminded of how utterly beautiful Viktor Nikiforov is, but he cannot bring himself to look away. Not when Viktor is staring at him like this. "What are you going to do after we leave?"

"Um," Yuuri says, then considers the question, surprised by the faintest note of worry in Viktor's voice. "If... if they don't catch us, probably stay here."

Viktor frowns. "That's too dangerous. Especially if you're keeping journals with delicate information."

"I can't just leave my family," Yuuri protests, then sighs, his gaze dropping. "I really don't know. I have friends in America and Thailand, but I can't just up and leave..."

Viktor shakes his head, long fingers stroking his jaw in thought. "You might have to for a few years. Thailand would be safer for you, easier to get lost there. The borders aren't as strong, either."

Yuuri opens his mouth to argue, but he is interrupted by a faint hissing noise, and he starts, reaching for the pot handle. "I let it simmer too long," he sighs, then shakes his head and sets one of the _tonkatsu_ in the pan, then whisks an egg to pour on top. He covers the lid again, counting out the seconds, then lifting the pan when it is finished. Quickly he puts the hot rice into three bowls and slides the finished cutlet into the first bowl, then begins another pot of sauce and onions.

When the sauce is simmering, he says quietly, "Where will you be going?"

Viktor looks up from staring at the finished _katsudon_ , blinking in surprise. "Switzerland. I have a friend there, and once I’m in Europe, it will be much easier to avoid detection. Russia hates everyone else, after all," he says with a laugh.

Yuuri raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment -- until something occurs to him. "Doesn't Russia border most of Europe? Why bother coming to Japan?"

For a moment Viktor is silent, and Yuuri wonders if he has overstepped his boundaries. Then Viktor smiles a little, leaning in to watch the sauce simmer over Yuuri's shoulder. "There's something here I need. Once I have it, I'll leave. I just need to wait... and no, I won't tell you what it is." Yuuri turns to look at him, and Viktor taps Yuuri's nose, grinning when his eyes cross. "Too high-level for you, Knight."

Yuuri stares at him, forgetting both the simmering pot and the topic of conversation. _Too close,_ he thinks, taken by the vivid blue of Viktor's eyes. _Close enough to --_

"Oi," snaps another voice, "what the fuck is that smell? It's making me hungry."

Yuuri jolts back at the same time that Viktor lifts his head, and they both turn to stare at Yurio, standing in the doorway. Viktor seems to sigh, and Yuuri shakes himself out of the daze that Viktor's presence had caused, offering Yurio a tentative smile. "It's _katsudon_. I'm almost done, if you want to sit at the table." Yurio gives them both a strange look but stalks over to the table, throwing himself into a chair with far more dramatic flair than Yuuri anticipated. He wonders how old Yurio is, exactly.

After a moment Viktor steps away from him, his warmth leaving Yuuri's side, and Yuuri shivers a little. "Where is your silverware, Knight?" Viktor asks, and Yuuri directs him to the drawer at the other end of the counter.

He breathes out a little. That had been a little too close for comfort.

He finishes the other two _katsudon_ quickly, while Viktor fetches glasses of water and utensils to set the table. The sight amuses Yuuri a little, to see the infamous Viktor Nikiforov bustling about his kitchen looking for a fork for Yurio, who refuses chopsticks upon pain of death (Yuuri's, to be exact). Viktor doesn't seem worried about the threat, so Yuuri tries to put it out of his mind, setting the table with the finished _katsudon_ , bowls of _miso_ , and little dishes of pickles.

Yurio ignores Yuuri's quiet words at the beginning of the meal and starts eating immediately, while Viktor takes his time to savor the first bite.

"This is good!" Yurio says, looking shocked.

" _Vkusno!_ " Viktor shouts, jubilant, and Yuuri blushes at the praise from both of them.

"I'm glad you like it," he tells his bowl, a smile touching his lips. He glances up through his fringe to watch Viktor and Yurio eat. His head is heavy with the information Viktor unloaded earlier, and he is burning with curiosity over the mysterious object Viktor needs in Japan. From the way Viktor glances at him every so often, Yuuri doubts their conversation is over -- Viktor seems intent on convincing him to leave Japan. He probably should... but this _is_ his home. He isn't sure what to do anymore.

It's nice, though, having a meal with both of them. He wishes it were under different circumstances.

~*~

A week passes, tentative and careful. Yuuri digs up his journals and lends a few to Viktor to read, hoping that Viktor doesn't choose to destroy them. Viktor does nothing bad to the journals, though, returning each one to Yuuri in pristine condition, and when Yuuri looks through them, he finds notes and corrections in a swoopy, sprawling handwriting that he could never hope to recreate. The additional notes explain even more that Yuuri did not know, and he rereads the journals whenever he is at home, eager for Viktor's insight.

They talk about the journals through WhatsApp. Now that Viktor knows how much Yuuri knows, he isn't afraid to discuss to discuss national secrets like gossip. He even suggests that Yuuri send the journals to somebody who can publish them, along the same lines as the anti-secrecy groups that not even Yuuri trusts. 

**Crow:** _Your journals are very thorough. It would be a shame for the world governments if they ever got leaked._

 **Knight:** _Everything would be silenced as soon as I tried._

 **Crow:** _Not if you send them to the right person. I know someone. Want their address?_

 **Knight:** _I know someone, too. I just don't know how to get the journals to them._

 **Crow:** _Through the postal system, what else? If you get me some extra journals, I can copy them, so we can send them to both people._

It takes a lot of convincing on Viktor's part, but eventually Yuuri agrees. Viktor's address is to a nondescript post office box in Kazakhstan; Yuuri sends his copies to an address in Italy. He doesn't tell Viktor who his trusted recipient is, and he doesn't ask about Viktor's friend. Viktor copies the journals in record time, likely with the help of Yurio -- who Yuuri can hear complaining sometimes, especially in the morning. Still, it gets the job done.

Yuuri sends the first packages per Viktor's instructions: in normal boxes, unmarked, with extra padding inside to protect the journals, but no extra shipping costs. Just the standard shipping with a guarantee for a signature, just like any other package Yuuri has ever sent. Yuuri doesn't sleep the night before, his stressed brain turning over images of the Strike Task Force banging down his door and declaring him an enemy of the state for disclosing national secrets to foreign groups.

He sends them anyway. If he gets caught, or if he has to leave the country, he wants the secrets revealed. 

When Yuuri steps out of the post office, he notices a black SUV parked in front of a house down the street. He slows, watching the SUV curiously, until he sees a heavily armed person step away from the van. His eyes widen in realization.

 _The Strike Task Force._ One of the units operating under the Central Readiness Force, a special task force of the Japan Ground Self-Defense Force, it is run by the Ministry of Defense and handles domestic terrorism, working alongside the five armies of Japan to neutralize any threats that arise from within. Somewhere in the past three years, the group has risen in power exponentially, especially after the Ministry of Defense authorized it to conduct raids on homes and businesses suspected in domestic terrorism cases.

A free license to operate across Japan and invade any household it deems 'suspicious.' Just the sight of the group sends a shiver of fear down Yuuri's spine, and he turns away, hurrying back home. Combined with the stress of sending the package -- and what if the STF raids the post office? What if his package is intercepted? -- and the reminder that raids are happening in his hometown, Yuuri doesn't stop until he reaches his front door, unlocking it as quickly as possible and throwing it closed behind him.

What if he gets raided?

Yuuri slides down to the floor, crouching against the door and breathing in carefully, knowing he is on the edge of panic. His phone buzzes, but Yuuri doesn't answer it, doesn't want to speak with Viktor right now. When the phone buzzes again, his mind clears a bit, the panic fading somewhat, and he sighs, opening WhatsApp.

 **Crow:** _Is something wrong? Your heart rate is very high right now. Do you need help?_

 **Crow:** _Yuuri?_

 **Knight:** _Sorry. I was having a panic attack. I saw the STF raiding someone's house and it scared me._

Viktor doesn't reply. Yuuri waits a moment, then puts the phone away and hugs his legs to his chest, hiding his face in his knees. As soon as he starts thinking again, the panic returns.

It's too much. He doesn't know what he is doing anymore. He is committing treason by hosting Viktor and Yurio, by sending national secrets off to another country, by believing what he does about the government. It could all fall down around him, and Yuuri would have no one to blame but himself. What if they go after his parents? His sister? Yuuri can accept the blame for his own actions, but he doesn't think he could handle it if they went after his family.

"Yuuri, breathe."

Yuuri gasps at the words, looking up in shock to see Viktor kneeling in front of him, barefoot and wearing only a pair of sweatpants, his gaze vividly green. Yuuri instinctively pushes at Viktor's shoulders, tilting his head back toward the street, afraid of hearing a car pull up.

"No, you can't be up here! What if they find you? What if they come now?"

"They're not coming now, Yuuri," Viktor says in that same soothing tone, gently grasping Yuuri's hands and tugging them down. With careful fingers, he unwraps Yuuri's scarf and plucks off his hat, setting them aside, then gently easing Yuuri out of his coat. "I can hear everything in a fifty kilometer radius if I listen hard enough, Yuuri. Come on, that's it. You're safe here. No one is coming to raid us. Okay? Breathe. Deep breath in, slow breath out."

Yuuri's heart is hammering in his throat, but at each gentle touch, each softly-spoken word, he relaxes a little more, until he can look Viktor in the eye, though hesitantly and with shame. The panic has cleared from his mind, and he can see now that he was overreacting, even though the fear lingers.

"I'm sorry," Yuuri whispers. Viktor only smiles and helps him to his feet, leading him into the living room and tucking him into a corner of the couch. Yuuri doesn't quite know what to make of Viktor's kindness, so he merely stays quiet, not objecting when Viktor lays a blanket over him, his socked toes poking out, nor when Viktor hands him a cup of tea a few minutes later. He doesn't even complain when Yurio surfaces from downstairs with Makkachin, who jumps onto the couch with Yuuri and licks his face, embarrassing him further.

Viktor's glowing green gaze should scare him, but the sight of it is a relief to Yuuri. If Viktor's abilities are heightened with his powers, then he can hear the STF coming from across town and react accordingly. He trusts in Viktor's senses, and he trusts that Viktor will protect himself, Yurio, and Makkachin.

Maybe even Yuuri, too, but he doesn't expect it.

Yurio takes one look at him and scoffs, dropping onto the couch and turning on the TV with a familiarity that arouses Yuuri's suspicion, but he doesn't complain. For now he merely sips his tea, taking comfort in the hot drink, and Viktor settles in the middle of the couch, smiling as he rests one arm across the back, fingers just barely brushing Yuuri's hair.

"Don't worry, Yuuri," Viktor says quietly, beneath the din of the television. "I'll protect you."

Yuuri closes his eyes. He doesn't believe him, but that's alright; it's kind enough that Viktor even offered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now you know a little bit more about everything, and still not enough. This AU is one of my favorites and I can't wait to get to the more exciting parts. Next chapter should be really exciting! ;D
> 
> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think!


	4. waves crashing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: This chapter contains a graphic scene of violence and police/military brutality.**

"I think you should buy a plane ticket to Thailand."

Yuuri closes his eyes, counts to five, then turns away from the pan where he is cooking mackerel, walking wordlessly over to the window to pull the shutters shut. Then he turns and frowns at Viktor, who is standing barefoot in his kitchen with a heart-shaped smile and his hand on his hip, as if expecting Yuuri not to argue. It won't be the first time, even -- this is the fourth time Viktor has brought up the issue in person, and the second time today that he has come upstairs to force it.

It has been two weeks since he met Viktor face-to-face, and Viktor is set on convincing Yuuri to leave the country. If he wasn't so nervous about missing a message about an actual need, Yuuri would have turned the WhatsApp notifications off already.

Beyond Viktor, Yuuri can see a blond head of hair slinking toward his living room. A moment later, he hears the television turn on, and he sighs.

"I'm not talking about this with you," he tells Viktor, then goes to the fridge to pull out four more fillets. Viktor furrows his eyebrows and follows Yuuri back to the stove, peeking over his shoulder as Yuuri salts the fish.

"It would be a good idea. If you need more money, I can --"

"That's not the issue, Viktor, and I appreciate your worry, but I can't just buy a ticket to Thailand out of the blue. I would need to plan it out, and contact my friend, and that's even assuming he would agree to host me for a while --"

"Just get an apartment there. I can help you plan it. You don't need to update your visa for it, right? It'll be easy." Viktor sounds flippant, but Yuuri can hear an underlying hint of steel that reinforces his determination, and he strongly suspects that Viktor will not give this up.

Unluckily for Viktor, Yuuri is just as stubborn. He shakes his head, fed up with the discussion. "Let me make dinner first. Why are you even up here? Someone could see you," he scolds, turning over the fillet in the pan, then gently picking it up and setting it on a plate. He sets two more fish to cook, glad that he has been putting aside extra food in case Viktor and Yurio sneak upstairs to join him.

It isn't that he minds, per se. He likes the company, and Viktor is surprisingly well-read, enough that they can carry interesting conversations about politics and the robotics industry. They mostly converse in English, with the occasional Russian and Japanese thrown in when their own languages have better words. Yurio rarely joins in with their discussions, and if he does, it is to criticize something Yuuri has done, or his television show, or Yuuri and Viktor themselves. (Surprisingly, he never criticizes Yuuri's cooking.)

It's just that Yuuri has not been sleeping well lately. His dreams are unsettled, distant things with looming figures and guns pointed at his face and long, distinct legal notices. One night he thought he heard banging and snapped upright in bed, but it was only a branch that had hit the roof. He doesn't have time to nap to make up for the deficit, and even if he did, Yuuri doesn't think he could -- he is afraid of waking up to the military at his door.

He has been stress-eating to avoid thinking about it. The fishmonger took one look at his flabby belly and laughed while selling him twice the normal amount of fish he usually buys. Thankfully, some of the food has gone directly into Viktor and Yurio's stomachs, now that they have realized it is acceptable to join Yuuri for meals on occasion.

"Hm... Yuuri, you've got dark circles under your eyes. Did you not sleep well last night?"

Once again, Viktor proves that he can read minds, and Yuuri gives him a dirty look. The sparkling shine of Viktor Nikiforov, celebrity and heartthrob of Japan and Russia combined, had faded abruptly as soon as Viktor had walked into his bathroom five days ago, looking heartbroken over the fact that Yurio wouldn't let him watch television. It is hard to hero-worship a man when he starts crying about missing the last episode of _Gokusen_ season 3 because "Yurio doesn't like watching shows with punks even though he's definitely a punk himself!"

The boy appeared at "Yurio" and promptly tried to kick Viktor into the wall. Yuuri got over his shock and pushed them both out of the bathroom so that he could brush his teeth in peace, praying to what little higher power he believed in that the Strike Task Force would not knock on his door while Viktor and Yurio fought over the remote.

He can't blame them. It must be boring sitting in a tiny room with only each other and a dog for companionship. He would rather have Makkachin upstairs, anyway, so that he can spoil her with toys and take her on walks, even though it's inflated his stress to manic proportions.

"Can you please just let me cook in peace for one night?"

"Fine, but we're not done talking about this," Viktor warns, huffing and sitting at the table. He settles into a staring contest with Yuuri's forehead, as if the weight of his blue gaze will be enough to convince Yuuri to leave the country. Yuuri ignores him and gently flips the mackerel, absently picking out a tiny piece of skin that falls off the fish and eating it.

A sudden thud sounds near the front of the house, and Yuuri nearly jumps out of his skin. Viktor blinks at him, then follows the direction of the sound. "Makkachin knocked something over," he says, and Yuuri breathes out slowly, pressing his hand to his chest to calm his stuttering heart. The stress is going to kill him one of these days, before the government even tries.

Viktor's keen gaze wanders back to Yuuri, and for a few moments, only the sizzling hisses of hot oil and the gentle hum of the gas flame can be heard, alongside the muted sounds of the television -- to Yuuri, anyway. Viktor has told him before that he has a much wider auditory range than a normal person, even without his powers activated, and Yuuri remembers his soft assurance, that he could hear fifty kilometers out. He suspects that number is the very edge of Viktor's range, and only when the Circle is fully activated.

Yuuri doesn't know much about the Circle itself, only that when it glows green, Viktor's otherworldly powers are strongest. From the pictures he has collected over the years, he suspects that there are multiple phases of activation, simply because of the different arrangements of lines that have appeared in photographs of Crow. From the rumors on the internet, the Circle is known to be a combination of robotics and genetic experimentation. Something was implanted in Viktor at a young age, and his body was forcibly changed. Viktor had once been a normal child by his own admission, after all.

His heart aches for a moment, thinking of Phichit's friend Chatchom, of young Viktor, of the children that were taken from Alces under his nose. He hopes that exposing the program will stop it in its tracks and protect children from ever being hurt again. Maybe he should go to Thailand for a few years... Phichit would probably be overjoyed to have his roommate back, though Yuuri is hesitant to put his friend in danger with him.

Provided the Strike Task Force doesn't raid his house, find his hidden cache of illegal documents and Russians, and arrest him.

"You're worried about being raided," Viktor says quietly, and Yuuri's shoulders stiffen. He doesn't reply, instead nudging the mackerel to check if it is done, then moving both fillets to a new plate. He slides the last two fillets into the pan and walks away to prepare bowls of rice, hoping that his silence will deter Viktor from continuing the conversation.

No such luck.

"Yuuri," Viktor says, suddenly a lot closer, and Yuuri jumps and whirls around, finding Viktor only steps from him. How can he move so silently?! And why does Viktor insist on calling him Yuuri, when they both know it bothers Yurio and he has a codename? Yuuri scowls up at Viktor and pushes the bowls of rice into Viktor's hands, turning away again.

"Can you please put those on the table?" he returns, pointed and short, and Viktor sighs and obeys, though he moves quickly back to Yuuri's side. He takes the third bowl Yuuri shoves in his hands but doesn't move back, his calm gaze staying on Yuuri's face. Yuuri doesn't look up at him, instead observing Viktor's long fingers wrapped around the bowl. It is from one of the older sets his parents own that they don't use for guests anymore -- that soft, earthy brown of standard Hasetsu ware, with bamboo painted onto the clay beneath the final glaze. Viktor holds the bowl like he is cradling a small animal, with a delicate grip that Yuuri envies.

"Yuuri, please look at me." At first Yuuri resists, but after a faintly exasperated noise from Viktor, Yuuri finally takes his eyes off Viktor's elegant hands, his mouth fixing into a stubborn moue as he meets Viktor's gaze. Viktor gives him a small smile, undeterred. "If anyone approaches the house, I can hear them at least half an hour before they arrive. I've been listening to the vehicles that drive up and down your street every day. By now I know the schedule of the normal ones, and I always pay attention if I hear something abnormal. Please trust me when I say that you will not be surprised by anybody who comes to this house. I will make sure you know long in advance."

For a moment Yuuri has to struggle with himself, a bit overwhelmed by Viktor's concern, as well as with a strong sense of relief. He has been slow to comprehend that he has an ally, that Viktor truly will protect him if Yuuri asks for it, even though he has not even dared to ask. Yuuri averts his gaze as he bites his lip, unsure what to say, unsure how to thank Viktor for looking after him. He simply has to trust him -- in which lies the real difficulty of Yuuri's acceptance. He trusts no one.

Once again, Viktor Nikiforov is proving to be the exception to all of Yuuri's rules.

"Okay," he says quietly, then nudges Viktor's arm a little toward the table before turning away to see to the remaining fish. A tiny apology for snapping at him, and one that almost hurts to give, but afterwards, the silence between them seems less oppressive. When Viktor passes him to search the fridge for the container of pickles that Yurio prefers, he rests his hand on Yuuri's shoulder briefly and squeezes, and Yuuri exhales with the motion, as if Viktor is squeezing out his stress at the same time.

After the table is set with all of the food, Yuuri leaves Viktor to finish filling glasses of water and walks down the hall to the living room, peeking in. "Sparrow? Um, Yuri? Dinner is ready," he says meekly when Yurio shoots a glare over his shoulder. The teen snorts, but after a short moment, he turns off the television and nods to the hallway, as if to say, _Well? Aren't we going?_

Yuuri holds back a sigh as he walks back to the kitchen, Makkachin following them both. He is never sure where he stands with these two, but at least he can find middle ground with Viktor. He just feels lost with Yurio.

Halfway through dinner, Viktor blows that safety net out of the water with a heart-shaped smile and rice on his cheek. "Let's discuss what we're going to do in case of a raid!" he says cheerfully, breaking the dull silence of Yurio scraping his fork against the bottom of his salad bowl and Yuuri contemplating another bowl of rice. Both of them stare blankly at Viktor, who doesn't bother waiting for responses.

"First, I will be able to hear a car heading this way from at least half an hour beforehand, since Yuuri's road is quite long. Because there are turns, though, I won't be able to tell if a car is heading directly to this location until about twelve minutes away. If they're speeding, seven to eight minutes. So, given that amount of time, what should we do next?"

His smile widens when both Yuuri and Yurio have no answer for him. Yuuri is frozen in his seat, clutching his bamboo-painted rice bowl and knowing that both Viktor and Yurio must be able to hear his racing heart. Then his brain catches up with Viktor's words, and strangely, ridiculously, Yuuri begins to relax.

Order is good. He can follow instructions. It will be a relief to have a clear idea of what to do, in case of the worst scenario.

"If we're upstairs, get downstairs," Yurio says boredly, making Yuuri start. "Hide all evidence. Don't panic. Don't resist, unless they try to arrest you, then punch them in the groin and run out the back door." Yuuri whips his head around to stare at Yurio, who scowls at him. "And don't fuck around if they have guns, just _run_ , fatty."

Yuuri stiffens, dread welling in the pit of his stomach. "I can't outrun guns. It's not... I'd be..." He closes his mouth over the panic at the very thought, looking down at his bowl. Suddenly he isn't hungry anymore, and he sets the bowl down.

Yurio audibly grinds his teeth, most likely in an effort not to throttle Yuuri. "I'm not saying you can. I'm saying _run_ , and within seconds _we'll_ be upstairs to punch the fuckers in the groin. And then we'll _all_ run together. Idiot."

"Very good, Yurio! That's exactly what we should plan for!" Viktor says, cheerful to the end, and Yuuri lifts his head to stare at them both. The conversation is on the edge of surreal, if not outright preposterous, and Yuuri isn't certain that he isn't dreaming this.

"Don't call me Yurio!"

"I'm pretty sure they're going to catch me before I can run," Yuuri says before he can stop his mouth. "And I've never punched anybody in my life."

"Did I say punch? I meant shoot," Yurio hisses. Yuuri gives him an incredulous look before he covers his face with his hands.

Viktor is watching them with a small smile that only grows at Yuuri's groan. "Would you like some self-defense lessons, then?" he asks Yuuri, who starts despairing of ever sleeping again. The last thing he needs is Viktor Nikiforov putting his hands all over Yuuri's pathetic, pudgy body in an attempt to teach him the best way to punch a man in the groin. Least of all in front of Yurio, who will laugh at him.

"We can practice," Viktor says brightly. Yuuri resists the urge to throw his bowl at Viktor's head.

They do practice, long into the night, after dinner is cleared away and the dishes have been washed. They time it with WhatsApp messages, and Yuuri practices hiding his journals and turning off his phone and securing the hatch to the basement. Yuuri starts out feeling inept and useless, but with each practice run, he gets used to the motions: delete the messages, turn off his phone, hide the journals, and secure the closet. Viktor tells Yuuri that Makkachin has been trained for years to be silent on command, and Yuuri never hears a peep from her the whole time they practice.

He is gratified, and intensely relieved, by the speed at which Viktor and Yurio rush upstairs every time he cues his 'arrest.' They really are upstairs in seconds. Yuuri starts to believe that they will be able to protect him after all.

It is past two in the morning when Yuuri finally throws up his hands and begs Viktor to stop. They haven't even gotten to self-defense lessons, instead spending the whole evening running raid drills, but Yuuri thinks he can finally sleep, even with a work shift tomorrow afternoon. Yuuri nearly falls asleep while bathing and drops into bed like a sack of rice. He doesn't move again, not even when Viktor peers into the room and says good-night, a small smile on his face.

Yuuri wakes up at eleven, well-rested and relieved. He didn't have a single dream.

~*~

Four days later, in the middle of searching through one of his old textbooks for a list of radio frequencies, Yuuri's phone lights up with a notification from WhatsApp.

 **Crow:** _Yuuri, I hear cars coming this way. Are you expecting any visitors?_

Yuuri frowns when he reads the message, the English communication jarring after spending an hour deep in a Japanese textbook.

 **Knight:** _No, I'm not. Why?_

 **Crow:** _Possible raid. Three cars, ten people, speeding up your street. They may be armed._

Yuuri inhales sharply, dread prickling at the top of his head and sinking low fast. His phone rattles in his hand, and he looks down to see his hands shaking. He clenches them, then nearly drops his phone when Viktor messages him again.

 **Crow:** _Seven minutes. Throw the journals down the ladder. Don't panic. Don't fight them. Remember what we practiced._

"Okay," Yuuri whispers, closing his eyes for a second. Then he jerks out of his computer chair and grabs the three journals lying on his desk, running out of his room and throwing open the closet. He lifts the floorboard and drops the journals, and he catches a flash of silver hair at the bottom of the ladder before he covers up the opening again. He makes sure the floor board is locked in place with a small latch in the front-most corner -- something that can be undone on Viktor's side, but which will keep the floorboard from moving if something on top is shifted. Even with the cover latched, Viktor and Yurio can still get through it in under a few seconds.

He closes the closet door. He breathes in deeply. Then he goes back to his desk and sits, turning his phone over in his hands, then carefully plugging it in to charge with shaking fingers. He takes a moment to delete the messages on WhatsApp, then turns the device off.

He nearly misses the button on the screen giving permission to shut down the device, his hands are shaking so badly.

Fuck. _Fuck_ , he is so scared. A raid. He is being _raided_.

Yuuri jumps and turns his head when he hears tires screeching on the street. He nearly knocks his chair over in his haste to rise to his feet, tensing when car doors slam outside. His mind goes blank; he tries to think of whether he left the closet door open, if he hid all the journals, if Makkachin will be quiet enough to escape notice. A moment later, there is heavy, hurried banging at his door.

"Open the door, this is the Strike Task Force! We have a warrant to search your house."

Yuuri freezes for a moment, terrified. Do they know? Have they realized what he is doing? Have they been watching him? Did they follow Viktor and Yurio here? Swallowing against a dry throat, Yuuri walks to the door and unlocks it, opening it cautiously. "May I help you?"

Outside stand several people covered in military-grade armor with guns in their hands, a few more carrying batons, and one holding up a crumpled piece of paper. All of them are masked, though the man holding the paper has uncovered his mouth. Yuuri can tell nothing else about them -- they are all much larger than he is, even with their heavy combat boots, though all of them appear to be male. He doesn't look too closely, instead focusing on the man with the paper.

"We are the Strike Task Force. We have a warrant to search your house," the man with the paper tells him, his tone short and forbidding any arguments.

Yuuri frowns at him, his heart beating faster in his chest. He knows he should not talk back to the military, especially after Viktor's repeated warnings... but it rankles, for a military official to take such a tone with him. "I don't understand, officer. Can you explain please?"

The man's eyes narrow, before he shoves the paper in Yuuri's face and forces him back, and Yuuri stumbles at the sudden display of force. He catches only _single floor house_ before a second soldier grabs his shoulder roughly and slams him face down on his floor, sending his glasses flying. Yuuri screams in shock, instinctively pushing back against the soldier's hands, and the soldier tightens his grip, twisting Yuuri's arm behind his back to pin him down. The rest of the soldiers stomp past Yuuri, their boots landing just inches from his face.

"Do not resist. You will stay still and silent while the Strike Task Force searches your house," the man with the paper states, remaining beside Yuuri while the other soldiers spread out and begin upheaving his belongings, checking in closets, and turning over furniture. Yuuri cannot see all that they are doing, and he is too distracted by the pain in his shoulder, in the terrifying feeling of being held down.

Yuuri inhales tightly, jerking automatically against the hands holding him still. Every practice session for this exact moment he had with Viktor and Yurio flies out of his head, and he is left only with instinct. He protests the treatment. "You're hurting me! What's going on? Why am I being searched?"

He gets a kick in his gut for his troubles, the force of the blow making him wheeze and leaving him briefly stunned. Did they actually just hurt him? Keeping him still is one thing... but violence? "Do not resist! What is your name? Where do you work?" the man with the paper demands.

Panic sweeps through Yuuri. For all that he has fought against the government through espionage and hacking, he has never been in a situation like this before. He hasn't trained as a soldier -- he has no idea how to handle being forced physically. He starts to struggle more fiercely, scared of what he might say, of the soldiers hurting him more.

Pain explodes in the back of his head. Someone is gripping his hair, holding his head up, and Yuuri gasps out, "Katsuki Yuuri! My name is Katsuki Yuuri! I work at Kawahira Electronics!"

The grip on his hair tightens, and the man with the paper scowls. "Do not resist. Answer the questions. Have you seen two foreigners in this town? Answer!"

Yuuri tries to shake his head, but he is held still by the second soldier. Glass breaks somewhere in the house; several heavy thuds follow the sound. Yuuri hopes they do not notice the movable floorboard in the closet. "No! I haven't seen anyone! Please stop, you're hurting me!"

The man with the paper leans closer, grabbing Yuuri's face and tilting it up, his neck stretched painfully. "Nobody? Have you seen any suspicious activity?"

Yuuri tries to shake his head, but the man with the paper is not satisfied. He demands Yuuri again and again to state his name and workplace, asking over and over if he has seen two foreigners or suspicious activity. Each time Yuuri answers the same: _no, I haven't seen anything._

The search seems to take forever, and his shoulder is aching worse with each passing moment as the soldier holds him down. He is terrified for Viktor and Yurio, who have to listen to every thud, bang, and crack, whose very lives depend on his ability to lie and the Strike Task Force's inability to search his house thoroughly. Yuuri keeps lying, and he keeps hoping that they will not find Viktor and Yurio.

At last the man with the paper lets go of him and stands, spitting on the floor. "Report," he says to another soldier, who snaps to attention.

"Nothing suspicious found, sir. One cell phone and one computer, both turned off. All the books are either fiction or about computer engineering. Two radios and other electronic devices. A work ID for Kawahira Electronics. Signs of one occupant, no others. Sir." He salutes, and Yuuri cringes when the soldier's grip tightens.

The man with the paper sighs, then drops the paper beside Yuuri and stands. "Then we're clear. Thank you for your cooperation, citizen."

Yuuri looks up, his gut churning, and the man smiles at him, then deliberately steps to the side. Yuuri hears a crack, and rage sweeps through him at this final humiliation. The soldier lets go of him, dropping him on his floor and filing out with the others, but Yuuri stays still as they close his door and climb into their cars. He doesn't relax until he hears the last car pull away, and then he breathes out.

His body hurts. He has heard, of course, of police brutality. He has seen the forums explode with stories recently, of Strike Task Force members using unnecessary force in raids across the country, that many are calling illegal and inhumane, but that the mainstream media continues to ignore. Somehow he hadn't believed it would happen to him, too.

Slowly Yuuri sits up, flinching as his shoulder throbs painfully. He looks toward the source of the crack earlier, and he heaves a sigh when he sees that his glasses are broken. Gingerly he begins to pick up the pieces, wondering where his spare pair is, and if he has enough money in his account to buy a new pair.

He hears a muffled thump, before the closet door slides open, and footsteps come hurrying toward him. Yuuri flinches back when long fingers touch his back. Immediately the touch vanishes.

"Yuuri, are you okay?" Viktor says worriedly, hovering beside Yuuri, his hands flexing as if he wants to pick Yuuri up and look at him. Over Viktor's shoulder, Yuuri sees the blurry figures of Yurio and Makkachin, though even without his glasses he can tell that Yurio is scowling. With a start he realizes that both Viktor and Yurio's eyes are glowing green, and that Yurio is glaring out the window, probably listening to the cars drive away.

"I think so," Yuuri whispers, trembling for a moment before he leans forward, resting his aching head against Viktor's arm. "Maybe..."

Viktor is silent for a moment, before impossibly gentle hands begin to help him up. "Let's take a look at you, okay? I need to make sure you're not bleeding," Viktor says softly. Yuuri accepts the assistance gratefully, though as he rises from his crouched position, new pains reveal themselves in his back and side, making him whimper. Viktor's jaw clenches briefly, but he remains gentle as he helps Yuuri limp down the hall and into the living room.

Yurio follows, closing curtains and flipping the storm shades closed over the windows. With hidden strength that no teenager should have, Yurio turns the couch upright and then begins to walk about the room, taking pictures with a small silver camera that Yuuri didn't realize he had. Viktor eases Yuuri onto the couch, kneeling down in front of him and reaching up to take the pieces of his glasses away, setting them on the couch beside Yuuri. Makkachin sits down on the other side of Yuuri, though at a murmured word from Viktor, she stays still, sitting at attention.

"Okay, Yuuri, I need you to look at me," Viktor says, reaching up to Yuuri's face and holding him still with one hand. "Did you hit your head at any point?"

Yuuri shakes his head quickly, reaching up to rub at the sore skin beneath his hair. "No, they just pulled my hair," he answers, quiet with shock. It is starting to settle in, that he was just brutalized by the military. He survived the raid. No guns were drawn, Viktor and Yurio were not caught, and though Yuuri was hurt... he survived. "You're safe," he tells Viktor, looking up into his worried gaze. He opens his mouth over more words, but they do not come, because suddenly he feels dizzy.

"Yuuri!" Viktor says, very close to him suddenly, and Yuuri realizes he swayed from the rush of relief. Viktor pushes him to lean back against the couch, and Yuuri does so with a wince, which makes Viktor frown harder.

"Where is your first-aid kit?" Viktor asks, and Yuuri manages to answer "bathroom cabinet" before Viktor runs out of the room. A moment later, Yurio steps in front of him, arms crossed as he surveys Yuuri with a scowl.

Yuuri smiles at him. "Sparrow... Yuri. I'm sorry you had to sit through that. It must have been awful."

For a long moment, Yurio only stares at him, the green glow of his eyes flashing. "You are seriously an idiot," Yurio tells him finally. "Stop calling me that. You can call me Yurio. _Only_ you," he adds quickly, shooting a glare at the hallway. "If _anybody else_ calls me that, I'll stab them in the eye. You hear that, old man?!"

Viktor walks into the living room and flashes a small grin at Yurio as he returns to Yuuri's side, kneeling in front of him again with the first-aid kit at his knee. He leans up into Yuuri's space, and for a moment Yuuri can only think about how Viktor's face is inches from his own, the electric green glow of his eyes all that Yuuri can see. Then Viktor presses his ear to Yuuri's chest.

"Breathe in," Viktor orders, and Yuuri obeys unthinkingly, staring down at the silver strands of Viktor's hair. Viktor's lips are a scant distance from his arm, and Yuuri's knees have parted to allow for the expanse of Viktor's chest and torso to press close. Viktor's hand remains a hot brand against his side, and for a moment -- a very long moment, where Yuuri becomes more aware than ever before that Viktor has a scent, though he couldn't describe it if he tried -- nothing hurts.

"Breathe out," Viktor says quietly. When Yuuri exhales, his breath stutters out instead of a smooth stream, his side hurting sharply. He cannot help a tiny whimper, his legs curling up a bit, but Viktor moves his hand down a bit to hold him still. "In again. Slowly, Yuuri." Though the aches in his body have begun to throb, Yuuri continues to breathe for Viktor, and it could be hours or minutes before Viktor pulls away, a look on relief on his handsome face.

"Your lungs sound clear, so there are no punctures from your ribs. Here, let's take off your shirt." 

The haze of pain does not distract Yuuri enough to keep him from protesting half-heartedly, but Viktor ignores him and reaches for Yuuri's shirt, tugging it up and over his head before Yuuri can yank it down again. Yuuri squeezes his eyes shut in shame when his body is revealed, the pudge of his soft stomach on display. He knows he eats too many fatty foods, and he doesn't exercise enough. He is soft and limp where Viktor is all hard angles and muscles, and this is the _last thing_ he should worry about, he was just _brutalized_ , he shouldn't care about what Viktor thinks of him half-naked --

The hiss of air through Viktor's teeth makes him cringe; then gentle fingers touch his side, where the dull throb from the soldier's boot ratchets up sharply. "They hit you here?" Viktor asks, a new emotion in his voice, one that Yuuri cannot read. Maybe later, when he isn't high on pain and terror, he can go over every word, every hitch of tone in Viktor's melodic voice, every subtle note, but right now, Yuuri can barely think.

"Kicked me," he whispers. "Just once. They didn't like my tone." He wheezes a laugh. "I wasn't obedient enough. Story of my life."

Viktor probes the area gently with his fingers, and Yuuri flinches away from the touch. "We'll have to keep an eye on that. I can't tell if they caused any internal injuries," Viktor mutters, sounding irritated, and Yuuri averts his gaze.

The last thing he wants to be for Viktor is a burden. "You don't have to look after me --"

"Just shut up and let him worry about you, pig," Yurio snaps, making Yuuri's head snap up. He flinches at the movement, feeling dizzy for a moment, then shakes it off and looks curiously at Yurio, who glares at him. "Of course we're going to look after you. You fucking saved our lives, okay? Just give it up. And stop looking so pathetic!" Yuuri blinks a few times, wondering if he has misheard the worry hiding beneath Yurio's anger. The teen gestures angrily at Yuuri's body, and Yuuri follows the motion to look at himself.

 _Ah._ He sees now why Yurio and Viktor both seem so horrified. Yuuri's torso is a mottled painting of bruises and scraped skin, a testament to the cruelty of men far stronger than he is. He will be a walking bruise for days. Yuuri averts his gaze, then peers back up at Yurio, twitching as Viktor's fingers skate over his hip. 

"Um... okay. Thank you, Yurio." The nickname should make Yurio bristle, but the teenager only scoffs and turns away, going back to taking pictures. Viktor huffs a small laugh, his head still bowed as he looks at Yuuri's side, and Yuuri's face begins to flush. Viktor is still very close. "Yurio, why are you taking pictures?"

"Evidence in case you want to post about it," Yurio replies flippantly, then proceeds to ignore him completely, leaving Yuuri nonplussed.

Viktor doesn't bother explaining, either, his focus completely on Yuuri's injuries. "Okay. From what I can tell, you have no fractures in your ribs, though there is substantial bruising, so it will hurt to breathe for a while. Painkillers will help with that, and ice packs. Did they do anything else to you? Tell me exactly what happened."

"They, um, they grabbed my shoulder and pushed me down. And held my arm behind my back, and pulled my hair... and the kick. And they broke my glasses," Yuuri adds blankly, shift his gaze down to the pile of plastic and glass beside him. "My spare pair is in the bedroom..."

"Where?" asks Yurio, appearing behind Viktor, and Yuuri blinks up at him. "I'll go get them."

Yuuri has to think about it for a moment. He flinches again when Viktor's hands move up to his aching shoulder. "I think they're in the table beside my bed. They should be in a blue case..." He trails off when Yurio vanishes down the hallway, then shakes his head and looks down at Viktor, watching the small crease between his eyebrows as he lifts Yuuri's arm and slowly moves it back and forth. He doesn't ask Yuuri what hurts; Yuuri's body tells him easily enough, subtle flinches and hitches of breath shaping the phantoms that had brutalized him.

Eventually Viktor scoots back, leaving the space he had occupied between Yuuri's knees and leaving him bereft of his warmth. Viktor's hands guide Yuuri to follow him to the edge of the couch cushion, turning his body slowly to the right, then to the left. Yuuri lets him do whatever he wishes, the shame of Viktor seeing his flab long buried beneath a quiet sort of happiness that curls up beneath his bruised ribs, content to purr over Viktor's worry for him.

"Your back is bruised, too," Viktor tells him quietly. "I think you should see a doctor about this. They can give you better painkillers than what you have here. Can you trust your family doctor?" He hands Yuuri his shirt and sits back on his knees, poised to help Yuuri in case he asks.

Yuuri doesn't. It hurts, but he manages to put the shirt on alone. He gingerly sinks back against the couch, the tension bleeding out of him. He is too tired to think about what else might be wrong with him; it is enough that he hurts. "Yeah, I do. Her office is closed for the day, though."

"You can go tomorrow morning," Viktor says, quiet and thoughtful. Yuuri nods, agreeing without bothering to argue. If he decides to press charges, then Shimizu- _sensei_ will support him. She has taken care of Yuuri and his sister since they were infants.

Viktor's smile is small, but the sight of it comforts Yuuri all the same. Viktor rises gracefully and pats Makkachin's head, then leaves the room with only a murmured, "I'll get you some water." Yuuri watches him go, noticing how Viktor's smile fades as soon as he looks away from Yuuri, though he is quickly distracted by Makkachin wiggling out of her serious pose and pressing against his legs, whining at him. Yuuri softens, reaching up to rub his fingers fondly through Makkachin's curls, leaning down to accept her kisses.

"I'm okay, Makkachin. Viktor and Yurio are taking good care of me, okay? You're such a good girl, staying quiet while the bad men were here." He contents himself with talking nonsense to Makkachin, the babble soothing him as much as it reassures the poodle, who stops licking at his face frantically and sets her chin on his knee. He holds gaze with her large brown eyes, until his sight grows blurry, much more than his poor vision allows for.

Makkachin whines when the first tears drip off Yuuri's cheeks, then puts her front paws on his legs and climbs halfway into his lap. Once again Yuuri allows someone into his personal space, which he had sworn off from everybody, even his family and close friends. He wraps his arms around Makkachin and hides his face in her fur, taking her warmth as proof that he is alright, that his house was raided and they all survived.

He was _so scared_ , and they survived. "We're okay," Yuuri whispers to Makkachin, who presses her nose to Yuuri's cheek and whuffs at him. Yuuri laughs and hugs her tighter, ignoring the pain in his body for a moment; he _survived_.

He doesn't notice Viktor and Yurio lingering in the hallway, their glowing green gazes fixed on him and Makkachin. Yurio's hand is clenched around a blue glasses case. Viktor has better control over his strength, but the water in the glass in his hand wavers a little when he takes a deep breath. The two Russians glance at each other; whatever is unsaid, Yuuri does not hear, but if Viktor and Yurio do not leave him alone for the rest of the night, he does not complain, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Hasetsu is based on Karatsu, [which is famous for its pottery,](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karatsu_ware) and I looove pottery, I wanted to include a little of it. Karatsu pottery designs tend to be earthy and traditional, and I like to think that Yuutopia has many sets of it since they are a traditional inn, and that Mari and Yuuri are slated to inherit boxes and boxes of old pottery and dish sets.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!! I hope you're enjoying the story! ;D Let me know what you think!


	5. a break in the waves

Yuuri stands at the very edge of the crowd, ready to exit the train as soon as the doors open. When finally the train stops moving and the doors slide apart, Yuuri hurries forward, his breath hitching when someone jostles his bruised side, but at least he can walk quickly through the crowd and escape the packed hallways.

His first stop is the post office. The smiling older folks accept his package without comment, sending the illicit journals off to Kazakhstan and Italy without even raising an eyebrow at the destinations. Yuuri still has a couple more sets of journals to send, depending on how fast Viktor and Yurio can transcribe his notes.

They don't even notice the bruising on his face. Yuuri is both unsettled and glad for it; he has his hat pulled low, his spare glasses on, and a breathing mask over his mouth. He definitely does not want his parents and sister catching wind of Yuuri looking like he limped out of a back alley bar fight.

Yuuri's gaze follows the boxes as the attendant carries them away for a moment, before he turns away. He has to remind himself that it is out of his hands now.

His next stop is the doctor office less than a block away from his parents' inn. Yuuri fills out the required paperwork at the registration desk, takes his number, and sits down to wait, staring at his lap. His pocket buzzes, and when Yuuri pulls it out and unlocks it, he sees a message from Viktor, along with several others that he must have missed on the train.

 **Crow:** _You'll let me know if anything happens right?_

 **Crow:** _I'm afraid to tell you this, but the small ball of rage has eaten all of the shrimp chips you were hiding in the cupboard. I put some cash in your wallet to make up for it._

 **Crow:** _Makkachin misses you already :)_

 **Crow:** _Have you seen the doctor yet?_

Yuuri snorts through his nose, tapping out a response before putting the phone away again. In tried and true teenage fashion, Yurio has an insatiable appetite for anything unhealthy, and Yuuri has taken to stocking his kitchen with chips, candy, and miscellaneous snacks for whenever Yurio sneaks upstairs to watch television. He hadn't been sure the Russian teen would enjoy the Japanese snacks, but every single packet of junk food he has brought home has disappeared. At least the money that Viktor gave him covers both Makkachin's and Yurio's dietary needs.

 **Knight:** _No, I just got here. I'm okay right now. Tired._

His evening had been slow and painful, just as his movements now are, with Viktor hovering at his side and looking after him. Viktor had even made dinner last night. Mackerel again, slightly burnt; however, all of the proper components of Yuuri's typical dinner were there: miso soup, pickles, fish, and rice. Not even Yurio had complained about the food; in fact, the teen had spent most of the night cleaning, his face fixed in a grim frown whenever Yuuri looked at him. Yuuri had tried to help and had earned a scowl for it, and Viktor had shuffled him off to bed before Yurio lost his temper.

Makkachin had slept on Yuuri's bed, and Viktor had woken him every couple hours to make sure he was doing alright. So far, Yuuri has shown no signs of internal bleeding, but his bruising worsened greatly, even on his forehead. He had forgotten that he had smacked his face when the soldier had pushed him down.

Viktor had not looked pleased about hearing that. Yuuri had received quite the lecture for not mentioning it. In his defense, he hadn't been thinking clearly at the time. Viktor's stern tone had died down when he had noticed Yuuri's gaze fixed on his bare feet, his shoulders hunched in, and he had sighed.

_"How about you lay down for a while, Yuuri? Yurio and I will take care of things."_

In between ice packs and medicine doses, Viktor had sat at Yuuri's desk, either transcribing journals to distract himself, or going over the search warrant that the STF soldier had dropped. Sometimes he would mutter to himself about the unfairness of it, and Yuuri would have to smile, because the true irony lay in the fact that he was actually committing a crime. Viktor's indignant frown had made him laugh a little, which hurt.

_"There isn't even mention of probable cause in this document. No 'evidence of a crime.' Of course we're committing crimes, but the worst crime of all is hurting Yuuri for no reason except to search for outlaws on the run. Never mind that he's actually hiding us! Yura! Bring that camera here, I want to take pictures of this thing."_

Viktor had taken pictures of the search warrant. Viktor had also taken pictures of Yuuri, with his shirt off, with his arms spread to show the multitude of bruises, with his hair pulled back to show the bruising on his forehead. He had even taken pictures of the broken glasses, muttering all the while about the ineffectiveness of the Japanese military. Yuuri had been a bit too high on painkillers to pay close attention, but he had enjoyed the worrying. It felt nice to give up the stress to somebody else for a change, and Viktor had channeled it beautifully into taking care of Yuuri.

Every time Yuuri had woken, he had looked over to see Viktor sitting at his desk. At some point he must have mumbled permission for Viktor to use his computer, because his laptop had been sitting open when Viktor had woken him for breakfast, left on a Japanese news site.

 **Crow:** _I'm sorry for waking you so often. I had to make sure you didn't have a concussion. You should have told me you hit your head!_

 **Knight:** _It was more my face..._

 **Crow:** _That's beside the point!_

 **Knight:** _You seem to avoid the point often..._

He misses what Viktor says in response to that, because the nurse calls his name then. Yuuri turns his phone on silent, then stands and walks over to the entryway, sliding off his shoes and picking out a pair of blue slippers. His movements are slow from the pain, even with painkillers, but the nurse waits patiently. She is young, maybe a few years younger than him, and he doesn't remember her. He doesn't comment on it; she wouldn't know him, either, if they didn't go to school together.

"Muramoto- _sensei_ is ready to see you," the nurse tells him, and Yuuri starts.

"I thought I was seeing Shimizu- _sensei_ today," he replies, and the nurse looks back at him in confusion.

"Shimizu- _sensei_ retired last year, Katsuki-san. Muramoto- _sensei_ took all of her patients. We sent you a letter about it."

"Oh..." Yuuri doesn't know how to feel about that. He had been ready to spill everything about the encounter with the Strike Task Force to Shimizu- _sensei_ , but he has never met this new doctor before. Vaguely he remembers a letter from his doctor office, but he had ignored it at the time. He has not been to the doctor in almost two years, which is his own fault. "Thank you."

The nurse sends him into Shimizu- _sensei_ 's old office, her photographs and posters replaced with landscape art and diplomas. The desk is the same, but the photographs on it are different, picturing a man and his family, alongside photos of mountains and forests. The man at the desk looks up with a smile, waving Yuuri over to a chair next to an examination table, and rolls his own chair over to meet him. He is an older Japanese man with greying black hair and a small whiskery beard, wearing a white coat over a blue button-up shirt and a stethoscope around his neck. His smile is warm enough to relax Yuuri a little, and he obediently sits in the chair, bowing a little. A different nurse walks in after him and begins to set up a tray of equipment.

"It is nice to meet you. I'm Katsuki Yuuri."

"It's nice to meet you, too, Katsuki-san," Muramoto- _sensei_ says. "I'm Muramoto Shinji, and it looks like you're one of Shimizu- _sensei_ 's old patients, correct?"

Yuuri nods, saddened that his old doctor retired. "Yes. Thank you for seeing me so early."

"You're lucky we had room for you this morning. Your paperwork says that you have bruises and pain, is that correct?"

Yuuri licks his lips, hesitating a long moment, before he gently pulls the flimsy paper mask off his mouth and tugs his hat off. "It's a little hard to explain... but, um, I was assaulted. I wanted to make sure they didn't do anything bad to me."

Muramoto- _sensei_ stares at the bruises on his face, blinking a few times in surprise. "I see. When did this happen? Is it just your face? You could have kept a compress on that and stayed home." His tone is faintly disapproving, but Yuuri ignores it; he is aware that this looks less than favorable for him, and he is too tired to care about fixing the assumptions of a stranger. All he needs is for Muramoto- _sensei_ to ascertain he does not have worse injuries than simply bruises and prescribe him some painkillers.

Yuuri shakes his head, his shoulders hunching a bit. "It happened late yesterday, January 31st. It's also my chest and back. They pushed me to the ground and kicked me, and I think I hit my head. That's where this came from, anyway." He points to the bruising on his forehead, and Muramoto- _sensei_ nods.

"Alright, then. Go ahead and take off your jacket and shirt, Katsuki-san. I'll look at that first."

Yuuri nods, glancing at the nurse, who gives him a reassuring smile, before carefully peeling off his scarf, jacket, and sweater. When his bare chest is finally revealed, the nurse inhales softly in surprise, and Muramoto- _sensei_ leans forward to look at the bruising.

"They weren't kind to you, were they?" Muramoto- _sensei_ mutters, then nods. "Let's have a listen, then."

The stethoscope is cold on his chest, but Yuuri sits still for it, breathing slowly and deeply. Unbidden, the memory of Viktor resting against him, his ear pressed to Yuuri's chest, comes to mind, and he shivers a little.

"Cold, right? Your lungs sound clear, at least. Do you live alone, Katsuki-san?"

Yuuri nods, pushing away the thought of Viktor's warm body against him. "Yes. I moved away from my family a few years ago. I wish I saw them more," he adds, a little rueful. He misses his mother's cooking and the benefits of living near a hot spring. The _ofuro_ just isn't the same.

Muramoto- _sensei_ takes a cuff from the nurse and wraps it around Yuuri's arm, pressing his stethoscope to Yuuri's wrist and beginning to pump. "Well, young ones must leave the nest eventually. Deep breath."

Yuuri breathes in slowly, cringing as the cuff inflates, then tightens around his arm, which is just as bruised as his side. After Muramoto- _sensei_ takes his stethoscope away and writes down his blood pressure, Yuuri exhales. His arm throbs afterwards, and he wonders what Muramoto- _sensei_ would say if he admitted that the injuries are from a military official. 

"Have you taken anything for the pain?"

"Yes," Yuuri says quietly. "I took a normal dose of ibuprofen this morning and last night."

"And it still hurts?" 

Yuuri nods in response, watching Muramoto- _sensei_ take out a few prescription stamps. "Is that normal? It hurts to walk..."

Muramoto- _sensei_ gives him an apologetic expression, glancing over Yuuri's papers again. "After an assault like you described? Yes. I will have Shimada-san take some images to make sure there are no fractures or bleeding. Then, I think it would be best to do your bloodwork, since you have not visited the office in quite some time. I'll write you some prescriptions before you go. Where do you work, Katsuki-san?"

Yuuri sighs inwardly at the thought of doing more tests, but he understands it is necessary, and he shudders to think of how Viktor would react if he refused the tests. "Kawahira Electronics. I mostly work at the register, but I handle stocking and repairs, too."

"Well, I’m going to recommend that you take a few days off from your job while you heal. You must not do any heavy lifting while you are taking your medication. I'll prepare a note for your employer. You can put your clothes back on for now."

Yuuri nods, glancing warily at his sweater before carefully pulling it back over his head with a wince. He hopes that the medication Muramoto- _sensei_ prescribes him will be enough to ward off the pain. He is tired of being here, of the conversation with a stranger, and he can barely think. He knows he should ask for Muramoto- _sensei_ to document everything so that he can file a report with the police, but he is scared of Muramoto- _sensei_ not believing him about the STF. All he wants, more than anything, is to go home and curl up on the couch beside Makkachin and watch cartoons with Viktor and Yurio. 

"Shimada-san will take you to the next room for your tests. Oh, and Katsuki-san?"

Yuuri blinks out of his daze, looking up at Muramoto- _sensei_ as he gathers his coat. "Yes, _sensei_?"

Muramoto- _sensei_ turns to face him, his mien serious. "Are you pressing charges? Would you like me to prepare a report to send to the police?"

For a moment, Yuuri wonders if Muramoto- _sensei_ can read minds just as Viktor can, then smiles a little. He must have been very obvious in his worry. "Please... I would appreciate it, Muramoto- _sensei_. I will be filing the report at the _kouban_ down the street. Thank you." He bows again, and Muramoto- _sensei_ nods.

"Good, good. It was nice to meet you, Katsuki-san. Please take care."

Yuuri nods and stands gingerly, following the nurse out of the room and down the hall. The next half hour is cold and full of suffering. The nurse draws several units of blood to Yuuri's dismay, far more than he thinks is necessary, smiling as she does so and leaving another bruise at the crook of Yuuri's elbow. Then she makes him stand in the imaging device and takes several x-rays of his chest, along with other tests that Yuuri doesn't see the point of, but he goes along with anyway, taking mental notes on what she does in case Viktor asks.

Finally, he is given a sheet of paper with his prescriptions and sent out the door, his breathing mask and clothes firmly in place. He relinquishes the slippers gladly and hurries out the door, pulling his phone out to check his messages. He gapes a little when he sees that Viktor has sent him twenty-six messages, rolling his eyes.

 **Knight:** _I left the doctor. He gave me a prescription. I'm going to fill it, then go to the police station to file my report, then go home._

 **Crow:** _How are you feeling? Do you need to come home for a while? You don't have to go immediately._

 **Knight:** _It'd be better to do it now... I'll be okay. I'll go home as soon as I'm done._

 **Crow:** _You have the search warrant, right?_

 **Knight:** _I have it._

 **Crow:** _Okay, but don't push yourself. Think of Makkachin, sitting here worrying about you!_

Yuuri smiles to himself. He doubts it is really _Makkachin_ that is pacing in the living room of his house and fretting about how far Yuuri has to walk. He pockets the phone again and continues on his way.

The pharmacy doesn't take much time, and he takes his first dose of pills with relief, hoping that the pain will subside before he has to walk home. The police station is a different story. Yuuri knows half of the officers; at least once a month, the officers of the _kouban_ scattered throughout Hasetsu will visit Yuutopia and spend the night drinking as part of a team building exercise. Those officers have known him since he was a small boy, and all of them are shocked to the core when he walks in and says he wants to file an assault report.

Yuuri winces when their eyes go round. There is no way this isn't getting back to his parents.

He tells them the truth of it, though, without mentioning Viktor or Yurio. He explains the incident as clearly as he can, and Officer Sakamura takes ample notes, her eyes fixed on the bruising on Yuuri's face. She accepts Yuuri's word that Muramoto- _sensei_ will send a medical report and takes the small thumb drive Yuuri saved of the pictures of his home and body, scowling all the while.

"Don't worry, Yuuri-kun. I'll make sure this gets investigated. They shouldn't have treated you that way. You go home and rest, okay?"

Yuuri nods, exhausted beyond reason by the time the officers let him go. His body aches, tired to the marrow of his bones, and every step back to his house is painful. The train is less crowded this time, and the bus as well, but Yuuri dreads every moment he has to spend near other people. He avoids another elbow to the chest, at least, and by the time he is trudging up his hill to his house, he has stopped thinking.

One foot in front of the other, on and on, his field of vision narrowed to the sidewalk and the icy grey slush on the side of the road. He swings the pharmacy bag back and forth a little, listening to the rustle of plastic and paper, his mind on his soft bed. Each step hurts a little more, but after a while he gets used to it, to the dull haze of climbing the hill. He walks up and down this hill every day; his body should be used to it... but everything _hurts_. The cold has seeped deep into his body, rendering each movement sluggish and heavy. Yuuri just wants to be done with it.

He reaches his door before he realizes it, and he fumbles for his keys, hearing the skitter of claws on hardwood. When he unlocks the door and steps inside, he looks up to see three pairs of eyes fixed on him. Viktor, Yurio, and Makkachin are hovering in the entryway, blocking Yuuri's path, but instead of tensing, he smiles at the sight of them. Viktor looks as exhausted as Yuuri feels, his hair messy and his usual cheerful smile missing, but something in his gaze softens as he looks at Yuuri. Behind him, Yurio looks away with a faint scoff, but his eyes soon return to Yuuri, the worry on his young face open for anybody to read. Makkachin barks in welcome, wiggling as if she wants to greet him properly, but a muttered command keeps her still.

"Go on, you giant baby," Yurio mutters, shoving a little at Viktor's back, and Viktor stumbles forward, catching himself before he runs into Yuuri. Then he exhales and holds open his arms, and Yuuri doesn't hesitate. He takes a step forward into Viktor's embrace and stops thinking, stops worrying, because he is home and Viktor will look after him. Distantly Yuuri notices that his eyes are wet behind his glasses, and he ducks his head a little, hiding his face in Viktor's shirt.

"You did so well, Yuuri," Viktor murmurs, his arms tightening a little around Yuuri, enough to strengthen the sense of _safety_ , yet not enough to make him hurt worse. Yuuri is glad for it, and he makes a low noise in response, mute with relief. "I'm sorry you had to do all that alone. We've got you now."

Yuuri closes his eyes and relaxes.

~*~

Yuuri wakes hours later when the pain begins to throb in his body again, but it is a subtle ache. He opens his eyes to a darkened room, the curtains drawn across the windows, though a little light still seeps through; it is still daylight. He blinks hazily, chasing the remnants of the distant dream in the back of his mind, and wonders how long he has been asleep.

He had fallen asleep watching cartoons with Yurio. Viktor must have put him to bed; Yuuri doesn't remember any of it.

On the table is a glass of water, a packet of medicine, and a pill, with a small note that reads 4:00 PM. Yuuri lifts his head a bit to look at his alarm clock, seeing that it is 4:16 PM, and he sighs, slowly sitting up and wincing as the movement inspires new aches. First the pill, then he mixes the powdered medication into the water and drinks it, grimacing at the taste, but he does not stop until the liquid is gone. With a deep sigh, he slumps down beneath his comforter again, closing his eyes to wait for the medicine to kick in.

After a few moments, the door opens, and soon a hand is sliding back through his hair. Yuuri's face warms a bit before he opens his eyes, looking up to see the faint gleam of Viktor's pale hair hanging over his face.

"Hey," Viktor says quietly, and Yuuri smiles a little.

"Hey," he whispers.

Viktor shifts to sit on the edge of Yuuri's bed, his hip pressing the covers close to Yuuri's side. The motion is intimate enough that it takes Yuuri aback; but then, something has changed between them. Between one blink and the next, something had shifted, blossoming into something more than a simple connection, as naturally as breathing. Yuuri has never experienced anything like it before, but he cannot deny the truth of it, even if he cannot define it.

"How do you feel?"

"Sore," Yuuri whispers truthfully, turning onto his side toward Viktor. "I took medicine, though."

"Good. Are you hungry?" Yuuri shakes his head, watching as a yawn rolls up Viktor's throat, but Viktor catches it with his mouth and clears his throat a bit, his eyes closing briefly. The circles under his eyes have darkened a little, and Yuuri frowns.

"Viktor, when did you last sleep?"

Viktor glances down at him, then away in a telltale manner, and Yuuri sighs. He thinks of the little cot downstairs that Viktor has been ignoring, remembering when he first bought them and tested one, how firm it felt. He wonders if Viktor and Yurio sleep well enough on them, feeling a little guilty for his comfortable bed.

"I'm fine, Yuuri. I'll rest later. You don't have to worry about me."

"Of course I do," Yuuri huffs before he can control his mouth. He flushes a little when Viktor's gaze returns to him, sharpening and fixing on his face. "I always worry about you," he mumbles, turning his face into his pillow for a moment to avoid embarrassment. A moment passes, and he hears a faint huff of amusement, before Viktor's hand returns to his hair, stroking the limp strands back. Yuuri bites his lip, thinking of Viktor sitting beside him on the couch earlier, the warm line of his side pressed to Yuuri's leg. 

"You could rest here for a little while," Yuuri says without looking up. His face is steadily heating up, and he might actually be dreaming this; he is never so bold in reality.

Viktor's hand pauses in his hair. "You're resting, though."

"I can share." Distantly he hopes that Yurio isn't listening to them.

Another long moment passes, so long that Yuuri begins to accept that Viktor will refuse. Then the bed shifts, and Viktor's hand leaves his hair, only to slide under him and gently move him closer to the wall, before Viktor climbs beneath the comforter with him. Yuuri inhales softly and looks up when another weight lands on his pillow, seeing Viktor's head resting just inches from him, the faintest flush to his cheeks, his gaze warm as he watches Yuuri.

"If you insist," Viktor murmurs, low and a little hesitant, a little shy. Yuuri cannot find a reply, his gaze fixed on Viktor's face, on the smallest hints that Viktor feels just as embarrassed and nervous as he does. He has so many questions, and Viktor has told him time and again to ask them if he wants; but right now, just for now, he wants to lay beside Viktor and merely feel.

He will ask his questions later, when he isn't so tired that he can barely keep his eyes open. Viktor's warmth is a balm to his aching body, and Yuuri turns his face into the pillow again, smiling a little.

_When I wake again, I want you to be there._

"Rest, Yuuri," Viktor murmurs, and beneath the softest rustle of his sheets, warm fingers come to rest over Yuuri's heart, simply feeling the languid beat. Yuuri sighs deeply, his chest expanding and pushing against Viktor's hand. The aches slowly fade away, and in their places lingers a warmth he cannot resist.

"Only if you do," he mumbles, already half lost to the comforting darkness. Viktor closes his eyes and smiles.

~*~

Sometime later, when the light has faded from beyond the curtains, Yuuri wakes to another weight landing on his legs, a paw pressing against his ankle, and he mumbles, turning his face into the warmth at his side. The warmth is not his pillow, though, but the hard heat of Viktor's chest, and Yuuri almost pulls away, until he notices that Viktor is asleep.

The room is darker now, but Yuuri can see the pale crescent of Viktor's eyelashes against his cheek, his mouth slightly open and his face relaxed for once. His arm is under Yuuri's pillow, and Yuuri can feel the impression of his hand beneath his head. Viktor's warmth is pressed against his front, Yuuri's knee nudging Viktor's thigh, but he does not feel uncomfortable. Makkachin turns a few times, then settles down on Yuuri's feet, letting out a huff.

When he turns his head, Yuuri realizes his ear is pressed against Viktor's chest. He can hear Viktor's heartbeat.

He listens to the sound for a while, Viktor's chest rising slowly and falling with every soft exhalation that brushes against Yuuri's hair. He has never felt quite like this before, not with his friends or family, until Viktor swept into his life and looked into his eyes, looked into him and saw him. Viktor, loved and hated by the world, looks at Yuuri like he hung the moon, and he still isn't sure what he did to deserve such affection.

He likes it, though.

He drifts with Viktor's heartbeat in his ear, reminding him that no matter the legend of Viktor Nikiforov, no matter the infamy of Crow, Viktor sleeps with his mouth open like a normal person. He glances up again, a smile spreading across his lips; it's almost cute.

Viktor huffs over a faint snore, his nose twitching, and Yuuri immediately changes his mind. It is _very cute._

He is startled from his musings by his phone buzzing on his desk, and Viktor's eyes fly open at the sound. Viktor glances around, tense, then relaxes abruptly when he realizes that it is only Yuuri's phone, grumbling and sinking back to the pillows. An arm slides around Yuuri's waist and pulls him closer, and Viktor hides his face in Yuuri's hair, sighing deeply.

"Viktor," Yuuri whispers, his face turning hot, trying to peer over Viktor's shoulder. "I need to answer that."

"Let it go to voicemail," Viktor mumbles, and Yuuri can find no argument against that. The buzzing soon stops, and Yuuri closes his eyes, his heart beating a little faster for the closeness, but Viktor doesn't seem bothered by it.

Then his phone buzzes again, and Yuuri groans. "Viktor, I can't reach it. It's probably my family."

Viktor throws an arm back without looking, finding the phone unerringly and setting it on Yuuri's hip. Yuuri turns onto his back with a wince and picks up the phone, sliding it open to answer. Viktor shifts to allow him the movement, but his arm doesn't leave Yuuri's waist, his hand shifting to rest on Yuuri's stomach, a little hesitant, gently. "Hello?"

"Yuuri, it's me. Are you okay? Sakamura-san said that you visited the _kouban_ today," his mother says, sounding soft and worried, and Yuuri winces. He should have known the police would blab to his parents.

"Um, yeah..."

"They said that you got attacked?"

Yuuri winces again. Viktor's hand twitches against his stomach. "Yeah... but I'm okay, though! I went to the doctor and got some medicine for it. I'm just bruised."

His mother hums worriedly, and Yuuri is sure that she wants him to come home so that she can fuss over him. "Maybe you should come home for a few days. I'll make you your favorite _katsudon_ , _ne_? You can relax in the _onsen_ , too."

Yuuri can't deny that the hot springs would probably do a world of good for his sore body -- but he doesn't want to leave Viktor, Yurio, and Makkachin alone. He knows they can take care of themselves, but after yesterday... "Maybe. I'll think about it. I'm pretty sore right now, so I can't really move very well... The doctor told me to rest."

"Well, I can always send Mari out with the car to pick you up."

Yuuri smiles a little. "I don't want to impose, _okaasan_... plus it would be hard to move up and down the stairs there. It hurts to walk right now. My house only has one floor, so it's easier for me if I stay here."

His mother hums again, not liking the answer, but Yuuri is being honest. It had killed his back walking up the hill earlier. "Well, maybe I'll come over tomorrow morning after we see to the guests. I'll bring you a few things." Her tone brooks no argument, for all of its sweetness.

Yuuri opens his mouth to argue, then quickly gets distracted when Viktor's hand starts to move, fingers slowly tracing a circle around his soft belly. He swallows nervously, silently. "O-okay... but you don't have to. It's fine."

"Nonsense, Yuuri! I'll be over after nine. You get a good night's sleep, okay? And take all of your medicine."

Viktor lets out a soft huff, a breath of a laugh, and the warm air hits Yuuri's ear, making him redden. "I will, _okaasan_. Thanks." As he hangs up, he slumps a little against Viktor and lets the phone fall to his side, lifting his gaze to the dark ceiling. A car passes by on the street, sending a long strip of bright light across the empty space, only to fade away like a shooting star.

"Your mom sounds nice," Viktor says quietly, his fingers drawing across Yuuri's stomach. Always gentle, always mindful of the aches beneath Yuuri's skin, and of his own strength.

"She is." Yuuri smiles at the thought of Viktor meeting his mother, who would love him. "She would probably call you Vicchan."

"Hm? Vitya? That's a little forward of her."

Yuuri blinks. "No, Vicchan. What is Vitya?" His tongue curls around the Russian syllables awkwardly; he was never good at speaking Russian. 

Viktor huffs a little laugh beside him. "Vitya. Sort of a personal form for my name, like how I call Yuri 'Yura.' Yakov calls me Vitya. He's known me since I was a child, so I don't mind it from him."

Yuuri turns a little toward Viktor, reaching down to touch his hand, resting his fingers beside Viktor's. Almost immediately, Viktor's fingers change their path and slip beneath his hand, curling around his fingers in a way that makes Yuuri's heart beat a bit faster. "Oh... well, my mom wouldn't mean it like that. Her English isn't the best, and Vicchan is easier than Viktor or Viktor-kun... plus, I used to have a dog named Vicchan. I tried to call him Vikki, because I thought he was a girl, but then I realized he was a boy, and he wouldn't answer to anything else. So we called him Vicchan."

Viktor laughs softly, drawing Yuuri's gaze from the ceiling. He can see the outline of Viktor's smile. "I wouldn't mind that. Vicchan, huh? Was he the miniature poodle?" His grip tightens a bit around Yuuri's fingers, drawing his hand closer, and Yuuri lets him, clasping their hands together lightly.

Yuuri's smile softens a bit in old memory. "Yes. He was a sweet dog. He passed away while I was at college in America."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Viktor glances down at Makkachin at the words, and Yuuri follows his gaze, sighing a little at Makkachin sprawled over their legs and showing no signs of moving. "You could go stay with your family if you wanted. We can take care of ourselves here."

Yuuri is silent for a long moment. "I think I would worry too much about you," he says finally, and Viktor inhales slowly.

"Yuuri..."

He looks up at the soft utterance of his name, finding Viktor staring at him. Whatever has changed between them shifts a little further, the air between them turning a little heavy, a little more electric.

Then the door opens, light spilling into the room, and a deep voice growls at them.

"You two need to get up and feed me, now. And I'm not eating any of Viktor's burnt fish again. I want curry," Yurio announces, silhouetted in the doorway with his hands on his hips, and Viktor lets out a groan, sagging against Yuuri for a moment. Yuuri stares past Viktor at Yurio's scowl, reaching up quickly to cover a laugh. Makkachin sits up, her ears perked, then jumps off the bed, leaving Yuuri and Viktor free to move.

"Okay, but I need someone to cut the vegetables," Yuuri says finally, after he gets himself under control. Sitting up is painful, but not as bad as it was this morning, thanks to the painkillers. Viktor stays on the bed, his hand sliding low on Yuuri's stomach, which he has to forcefully ignore given Yurio's presence.

"Fine," Yurio sighs with a dramatic roll of his eyes, then jabs over his shoulder with his thumb. "Come on, you lazy fuck."

"Shut up, Yurio," Viktor says, muffled against Yuuri's side. He tugs a little at Yuuri's waist, as if wanting him to lie back down, and Yuuri realizes just how this must look to Yurio, an impressionable teen. He flushes bright red and grabs Viktor's hand, pulling it away, but Viktor reacts with ease and entwines their hands again, squeezing his knuckles.

"What was that?" Yurio says dangerously. "Don't make me drag you out of there."

"So cruel," Viktor whines, finally sitting up and sliding his legs off the bed. "So cold and uncaring! All I want is to snuggle with Yuuri, and you cannot give me this one thing?"

"Not when it comes to dinner, asshole. Hurry up!" Yurio orders, pointing at them both, then leaving the room before Viktor can whine at him again. Makkachin follows him happily, and Yuuri covers his face for a moment, embarrassed beyond belief that this is happening. When he tentatively looks up, Viktor is smiling at him, his thumb rubbing over Yuuri's wrist in small circles, brushing against his pulse point.

"Okay?" Viktor asks, soft and gentle. Yuuri nods, unable to say anything in response, and allows Viktor to help him out of bed.

Directing Yurio and Viktor around his kitchen is odd, yet Yuuri doubts he could handle cooking tonight. Hopefully tomorrow when he has healed a little -- and it is entirely possible that his mother will bring enough food to feed him for a week, or the three of them for one or two days. They follow his instructions easily enough, with Yurio handling most of the cooking and leaving Viktor to cut up vegetables and chicken. When at last the curry is simmering, the rice bubbling away in its cooker, Viktor stretches with a groan that Yuuri determinedly ignores.

"I'll go check the messages," Viktor says with a sigh, patting Yuuri's head as he passes the kitchen table and heading to the back of the house. A moment later, Yuuri hears the closet door open, and he shakes off his embarrassment and glances over at Yurio. 

"Sorry I didn't get your shrimp chips," Yuuri says after a moment of awkward silence, and Yurio shrugs.

"You weren't thinking straight. You can pick them up later. If you're feeling better."

Yuuri nods, then stands and hobbles over to the counter, leaning over Yurio's shoulder to look at the curry bubbling in a satisfying and fragrant manner. He breathes in the scent of food, his stomach growling, and smiles up at Yurio, who is taller than him by a few inches at least, despite being obviously younger. "Thank you for cooking dinner. It looks good."

Yurio stares at him, then abruptly turns away and walks over to the rice. "It's nothing," he says, a bit forcefully, and Yuuri blinks at him, a little bewildered. His smile softens a bit, glad Yurio is warming up to him, and he picks up the spoon to stir the curry.

Viktor walks back into the kitchen, then, staring down at his phone with a small frown, drawing the attention of both of them.

"What is it?" Yurio asks, sharp and wary, but Viktor only shakes his head and slides the phone in his pocket. Something in his expression is distant for a moment, until it seems to shiver away beneath a smile, and suddenly, there is the Viktor that Yuuri knows best.

"Nothing to worry about. When will dinner be ready? I'm _hungry,_ Yurio," Viktor whines, draping himself over Yurio's back, who immediately shoves him away. Yuuri laughs at them, though his thoughts linger on Viktor's troubled expression from before.

He hopes nothing else has happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of filler with some long-needed cuddles. The coming chapters will be really exciting, so they definitely need the rest. ;D Stay tuned!!
> 
> I'm so happy with the response to this story. You all are awesome! Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Let me know what you think! Comments feed this poor author's heart :)


	6. seething

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: This chapter contains a brief scene of violence.**

Bathing has become a chore. Even after two full days of prescription painkillers and a muscle relaxant, Yuuri still can barely move his arm, the tendons sore from the rough handling of the soldiers. Washing his back strains his already sore muscles, and the second time he bumps the bruise on his side, he ends up curled in a fetal position for several minutes. Everything _hurts_.

Still, Yuuri would rather be miserable and clean than miserable and not, so he endures the pain. His mother gave him a few mesh bags of herbs when she visited yesterday, so Yuuri dutifully puts another into the hot water and lets it soak, filling the room with a woodsy scent that reminds Yuuri of the _onsen_ back at his parents' inn. Neither Viktor nor Yurio had commented on it when they had bathed after him last night, but Yuuri suspects they were giving him a break.

Seeing his mother had been both wonderful and anxiety-inducing. His Russian fugitives had hidden downstairs while Katsuki Hiroko had puttered around Yuuri's kitchen and unloaded all sorts of goodies: fish and vegetables for his fridge, three -- _three!_ enough to share with Viktor and Yurio -- bowls of _katsudon_ , and more jars of homemade pickles than Yuuri would ever be able to eat. At least Yurio seems to enjoy pickles, otherwise Yuuri's fridge would remain completely full.

She had been completely appalled at the mess left by the Strike Task Force. Most of it was cleaned up, thanks to Yurio, if unbeknownst to his mother, but his house was still in shambles. Watching his mother flutter around his living room, straightening books and cleaning up papers and putting decorations back in their places, Yuuri was relieved that she had not seen the original wreck.

Yuuri was happy to see her, though. He misses her and his sister and father. Yuuri wishes he visited them more often. He just... doesn't. The days go by without him ever getting onto the train to go see them, even though he thinks of doing so often. He just never makes the time to do so.

He should. After Viktor and Yurio leave, if all goes well... Yuuri will do better.

At last he sinks into the steaming _ofuro_ and closes his eyes with the faintest groan, wary of Yurio in the living room and Viktor somewhere around the house. The heat seeps into his aching body, relieving what the painkillers are not strong enough to touch, and for a time Yuuri drifts, thinking of nothing.

A knock at the door drags him back from his haze of empty thoughts, and Yuuri blinks slowly at the door.

"Yes?" he calls.

"It's me," Viktor says quietly. "May I speak to you for a moment, Yuuri?"

Yuuri stares for a brief moment, wondering if he misheard. Then he looks down at himself, nude in a medicinal bath, nonplussed. Viktor wants to talk to him _now_? "U-um, I'm in the bath..."

"I won't look."

Yuuri hesitates, knowing he could say no, but Viktor's quiet request, so atypical to his usual flamboyance, has him curious. "Okay."

The door opens and Viktor steps into the room, his gaze briefly taking in Yuuri's flushed cheeks and bare shoulders before he averts his gaze, finding the stool they sit on while washing off. He brushes off the remaining droplets of water and sits on it, resting his elbow on his knees, his blue gaze staying on the floor. Yuuri watches him, reaching up to push his hair out of his eyes, his attention catching on Viktor's stiff shoulders and somber mien.

"Yurio and I will leave on the seventeenth."

Silence, and then a little splash as Yuuri jolts in shock, his hands gripping the side of the bath. "What -- so soon? I thought Alces said you'd be here until March at least," he blurts out, catching Viktor's stare when he glances up. For a moment he forgets his nudity, the idea that Viktor will leave soon silencing all other thoughts. It is something he has always known; but in the month since Viktor had arrived, Yuuri had gotten used to his presence. Viktor is no longer simply Crow, nor Viktor Nikiforov -- he is very important to Yuuri, now. He and Yurio are people that Yuuri cares about. "What... what changed?"

Viktor closes his eyes, some fleeting emotions passing over his face -- frustration, helplessness, and a grim determination that sends a chill through Yuuri. "I mentioned that I have to wait in Japan for a certain reason. That reason is, I am after a certain item that will secretly be handed over to the Kremlin. It is _vital_ that I get that item before it changes hands. One of my contacts informed me that the item will be in transit earlier than we originally guessed, likely because they know I am in Japan and that I want it. I plan to create an opportunity to retrieve it, as soon as possible." He takes a deep breath, leaning his head back, his silver hair falling over his face. "After I retrieve it, we must leave immediately, because the military will scramble to reclaim it. We can't be in the country when they figure out I have it."

He opens his eyes and looks at Yuuri suddenly, his keen blue gaze pinning him in place. "I want you out of the country by that time, too."

A small jolt runs through Yuuri. This is not merely Viktor -- this is also Viktor Nikiforov, Captain in the Russian military, a soldier at the core of his identity. His wariness must show on his face, because Viktor's stern mien softens a bit, a smile touching his lips briefly.

"I know you will argue with me about this, but it is something I feel you must do. If they catch wind of you helping us, you will be hunted. You said it yourself, you could be killed just for the knowledge of the program. It is more than that, though. Just by helping me, you are painting a target on your back, and it is only through luck that my superiors have not spotted it yet."

Viktor's mouth twists, his voice growing more agitated, and Yuuri holds himself back from speaking, not wanting to interrupt the thoughts passing through Viktor's head now. He starts when Viktor stands and suddenly crosses the room, his face going bright red as he scrambles to cover himself, but Viktor doesn't look, instead kneeling in front of the bath and reaching up to take his hands.

"Yuuri," Viktor says, quiet as his gaze bores into Yuuri's, making him still. "I can't let them find you. Before, I might not have looked back, probably wouldn't have cared, but... now, you mean more to me than I can explain. If you leave the country, then you'll be safe. Safer, at least. It will be difficult. You'll be on the run, essentially alone. Maybe for years. But... I have contacts everywhere, I can get you to safety, if you'll only let me."

Yuuri stares at him, eyes wide at the admission and Viktor's closeness, all too aware of his nudity, of the fact that Viktor could look down and see more of Yuuri than he has bared to anyone in years. Viktor's grip on his hands is gentle but firm; yet this close, Yuuri can see the small crease in his eyebrows, the line of worry that Viktor normally never shows anyone. He inhales softly, his embarrassment drowning beneath the sudden flow of new worries, of living far away from everything he has known, a known outlaw to his own government and the rest of the world.

For years Yuuri has understood that his knowledge could cost him his life, but he has never dreamed of revealing it, carefully hoarding every piece of knowledge about the Green Circle and the other secrets that world governments would murder him for knowing. He has thought of it, escaping, but he always imagined he would hide in Tokyo, or out in the countryside... he never imagined actually leaving Japan.

It scares him.

"I can't go with you?" Yuuri asks, small and unbidden, and he shuts his mouth quickly -- but the words have already crossed the divide between them. Viktor blinks, briefly taken aback, then visibly softens.

"It'd be too dangerous. I'd rather you go somewhere far away where they cannot track you. And... someday, if everything goes well, we could meet again. If you want," Viktor says finally, just as small as Yuuri, vulnerable and for just a breath, just a moment, just as scared.

Yuuri slowly turns his hands in Viktor's, clasping his fingers in return, his gaze dropping briefly at his face warms. This conversation is too intimate, too close to his heart; yet all of his conversations with Viktor seem to be such. Every word he exchanges with Viktor, every moment he spends with him, feels momentous, as if Yuuri is standing on the cusp of something new and brilliant. Whenever he reaches out, Viktor meets him halfway.

"I do," Yuuri confirms quietly, lifting his gaze to Viktor's face. "I'd like that very much."

For a moment Viktor only stares at him, then a breath shudders out of him, as if held in waiting for Yuuri to refuse. It dissipates with the steam rising from the bath, and with it fades Yuuri's anxiety for the future, just for a moment. Viktor leans forward and rests his forehead against Yuuri's hands, not minding his damp skin, and Yuuri's heart aches, overcome by the urge to hug Viktor.

He won't, though, not while he is naked as the day he was born. Yuuri isn't as embarrassed by that fact now, but he is still a little uncomfortable. A thought occurs to him as he looks at Viktor, and his eyes narrow. "Viktor, you chose this time on purpose," Yuuri points out, and Viktor lifts his head in surprise, then looks away briefly. "You manipulated me into a vulnerable position so I would agree."

Viktor smiles but does not deny it, nor does he let go of Yuuri's hands. "If it means you'll be safe and alive, I'll manipulate the world into doing my bidding. So you agree, then?"

Yuuri doesn't hold it against him -- he has been running from the decision for two weeks. The raid by the Strike Task Force was a wake-up call, and Yuuri cannot ignore it, just as he cannot deny Viktor. He knows the stakes; he knows how far the government will go to hide the secret of the Green Circles.

He will have a lot to plan. "We only have two weeks to arrange everything," Yuuri says, falling deep into thought. He needs his computer -- he needs to contact Phichit, and look at apartments in Thailand, and think of places to go after Thailand, because surely if he tells his family he will be in Thailand, then anyone could follow him and find him. He looks up and sees Viktor staring at him, his blue eyes nearly sparkling with hope, and he sighs. "Yes, I agree. Now can you get out? I'm still naked."

Viktor stands swiftly, grinning down at Yuuri and squeezing his hands. "Excellent! I'll start making arrangements immediately. Everything will be fine, Yuuri!" He lets go of Yuuri's hands but does not leave right away, and Yuuri feels himself redden as Viktor's gaze drops.

"You said you wouldn't look!" he accuses, and Viktor's eyes immediately snap up. He has the decency to look embarrassed, a tiny flush brushing his pale cheeks, and Yuuri points at the door, frowning at him.

"Out."

"Okay, okay," Viktor says, holding up his hands. Then his smile softens, and he leans down to catch Yuuri's face with one hand, sliding back through his damp hair, before warm, dry lips brush his forehead. Yuuri stops thinking for a moment, and by the time his brain has caught back up current events, Viktor is halfway out the door, glancing briefly over his shoulder at Yuuri before shutting it. Yuuri stares blankly at the closed door, reaching up slowly to his forehead, his fingers hesitating just over the skin where Viktor kissed him.

The blush that sweeps over him turns his entire body red. Later, Yuuri will blame it on the hot bath.

~*~

"Looks like the earliest one they have is 11:15 AM through Fukuoka International."

"For the twentieth of February?"

"Yes. It's not that much for a one-way ticket. I can take it from my savings."

"Alright, as long as you keep the cash I gave you."

"You really didn't have to give me that..."

"Of course I did, Yuuri. Now, go ahead and buy it. Might as well get first class!"

"I don't need to get first class, that's a waste of money --"

"Can you two please shut up for one minute?" Yurio hisses menacingly from the couch. "Katsudon, just buy the fucking thing."

Yuuri puts on a smile as he looks over the top of his laptop and meets Yurio's glare. He isn't exactly sure why Yurio started calling him _katsudon_ , but he isn't about to complain. "I am, don't worry, Yurio. I just want to make sure everything is the way I would prefer it." The last words he directs at Viktor without looking at him, leaning heavily over Yuuri's shoulder to stare at the ticketing website. Absently Yuuri wonders just how much Japanese he can read, then sighs and proceeds to the checkout before Viktor can bring up another argument against his choice.

"First class would be better," Viktor sighs against his ear, making Yuuri redden a bit, but he firmly ignores both him and Yurio's narrowed stare until he has gotten his confirmation number for the purchase. He has been worrying about this issue ever since Viktor came into the bathroom last night, but now that it is done, the weight has lifted from his shoulders. 

"Well, it's done. Now I just have to explain to my family why I'm going to Thailand for several months."

Viktor shrugs, apparently unconcerned with that dilemma, and reaches for the touch pad, brushing Yuuri's fingers aside and navigating the screen to a new tab. "Yakov probably knows somebody who knows somebody. We can get you a job contact. They saw your resume online and contacted you, easy, right?"

Yuuri rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair to let Viktor mess around on the computer, his shoulder touching Viktor's chest. "I suppose... there's so much to plan," he sighs.

"Well, you'll have plenty of time to figure it out while I'm gone," Viktor says, a little too cheerful, and for a moment Yuuri doesn't realize what he means. Then he turns in his chair to stare at Viktor, noticing Yurio sit up abruptly on the couch.

"We're leaving?" Yurio demands before Yuuri can say a word. "I thought we were leaving on the seventeenth." Viktor's smile tightens a little, just at the corner of his mouth, but Yurio cannot see it from his vantage point. Yuuri can, though, and Viktor's next words come to him as if through water, distorted.

_What?_

"We are, yes. However, I'll be gone for a few days by myself to fetch a certain item, as previously discussed. You'll stay here, of course, and," Viktor says calmly, then stops abruptly when Yurio all but vanishes from the couch, crossing the room too fast for Yuuri to see and grabbing Viktor's shoulder to yank him around. Yuuri yelps and falls back against his desk, startled by the sudden display of speed, one of the few signs of the Green Circle that he has seen in weeks. Yurio's face is darkened with anger, sending a jolt through Yuuri.

"You're not going alone," Yurio grounds out. Viktor only smiles at him, reaching up to take Yurio's hand and detaching it from his sweatshirt, the fabric tearing like strips of paper.

"I am, and I will. You will stay here. This isn't up for discussion, Yura," Viktor replies, still calm and even, but steel hides beneath his pleasant tone. He takes a few steps away from the desk and pulls Yurio with him, not batting an eyelash when Yurio struggles against his steel grip. 

"You can't go alone! I should go with you, back you up," Yurio protests, but Viktor shakes his head.

"No. It will not be a routine mission. You're not trained enough for it. This will be very dangerous, and I cannot chance you getting hurt or captured by those people. I said _no_ , Yuri," Viktor adds sharply, when Yurio opens his mouth again, blue eyes narrowing. "It's not just a matter of your training. I couldn't forgive myself if you were hurt on this mission. You are only eighteen years old."

Yuuri starts at hearing Yurio's age. Somehow he had thought Yurio younger, despite his height. He had figured that Yurio was a teenager, but to hear it out loud...

"So what? I can do it as well as you!" Yurio retorts.

Viktor is quiet for a long moment. "I won't say it again. You are staying here."

Yurio scoffs. "Then I'll just follow you. As if you could stop me."

Something in Viktor's mien fades to nothing, sending a shiver through Yuuri, and Yurio seems to sense it, his shoulders hunching a little. "If you follow me," Viktor finally says, low and cool, "I will tell Otabek that the reason you died at the hands of his torturers was your own foolish pride."

Otabek? Yuuri does not recognize the name. Not so much for Yurio, who has frozen in place, incandescent rage dawning on his face, a blood-thirsty sun against a bleak day.

"Don't bring him into this," Yurio breathes, and as if in reaction, the green in his eyes turns deadly, lighting up with an eerie glow.

Viktor smiles, the thinning of his lips no more humorous than the fury trembling in Yurio's voice. "Do you think it a coincidence that Yakov tried to save us when he did? Do you think I was the first soldier he smuggled out of Russia? Or even that I was the person who told him of your participation in the program?"

"Shut up."

"No, indeed not. It was Otabek. He contacted Yakov after he got out. He set up your escape. He's waiting for you, you know. We've been sending him those journals all this time --"

" _Shut up!_ " Yurio roars, surging forward. He swings wildly at Viktor, who catches his fist and ducks under Yurio's arm to twist it behind his back, inserting himself between Yurio's rage and Yuuri, who yelps and scrambles out of his chair. Yurio snarls, his struggle vicious, but Viktor is immobile, his grip iron-strong. 

"Don't do this, Yura," Viktor says quietly. Yurio spits in his face. The spittle lands on Viktor's cheek, catching him by surprise, and his fingers loosen an iota, the smallest smidge of tension, but it is enough for Yurio to rip his hand away. Yurio turns sharply a second later, his leg blurring as he slams it into Viktor's head, who staggers from the blow, long fingers grabbing at Yurio's ankle. Yurio evades him, catching Viktor by the neck with the back of his knee and yanking him down to the floor.

Yuuri stares in horror, shrinking back against the wall at the show of violence. The shock of seeing small, grumpy Yurio exploding with anger stills his tongue, and he cannot protest for a minute, a shrivel of fear rearing up. Viktor and Yurio are trained soldiers, no matter their ages -- they could snap him into pieces with hardly any force.

He takes a deep breath. They wouldn't. He knows they would not hurt him. Not Viktor, who holds Yuuri in his arms like a lover and gets offended when Yurio changes the channel. Not Yurio, who steals Yuuri's pickles and gives him onions from his _katsudon_. 

He starts when his attention is drawn back to Yurio and Viktor by sudden movement. Viktor tears away from Yurio, backing away into the hallway, and Yurio follows, dealing swift blows and kicks. Viktor dodges or nullifies them all, and their movements are too fast for Yuuri. Yurio's foot slams into the floor with a loud _crack_ , and Viktor grabs his ankle again, dragging him down and pinning him, though not fast enough to avoid Yurio's hand at his neck, ready to squeeze.

A moment passes, where Viktor stares into Yurio's furious green eyes, and a snarl rises on Yurio's lips, ready to unleash his anger again -- when the silence is broken by Yuuri.

"Stop it, stop it! Stop fighting!" Yuuri rushes across the living room to the hallway, halting in the doorway. Twin glowing gazes snap to him, but he pays the eerie stares no mind, his attention falling to the floor where Viktor is holding Yurio. His eyes widen in horror at seeing a large crack in the wooden panels where Yurio's foot had met the floor, and when Yuuri looks back at Viktor and Yurio, he is shaking.

"I don't care if you're mad at each other! Don't take it out on my floor!"

Yurio is the first to sputter. "But Viktor --"

Viktor is not far behind. "But Yurio --"

"No," Yuuri says coldly, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. He shivers, trying to shake off the anxious mess in his mind, but he is unable to stop seeing the two of them fighting in his mind, chillingly reminded of the soldiers that invaded his home. "No fighting in my house. I don't want Viktor to go any more than you do, Yurio, but... if Viktor says he has to do this alone, then we need to trust him." He ignores the way both of them start in surprise and let go of each other, dropping to his knees and pressing trembling fingers to the crack.

Viktor reaches out to him first, shifting to his knees beside Yuuri, but Yuuri evades him by standing up suddenly. "I'm going to the store to get ingredients." He isn't as sore today; a trip to the store should be okay, if he takes it easy. He turns toward the door, then thinks better of the decision to leave Yurio and Viktor alone together, suspecting he might not have a house when he comes back. 

"Why don't you take Yurio?" Viktor offers when Yuuri turns around, likely reading his hesitation, and Yuuri starts, staring at him. The offer takes Yurio by surprise as well, leaving Yuuri a little wary, as Viktor has so far refused to leave the house except to take Makkachin on walks late at night, though he has shown less restraint for Yurio, who has snuck out once or twice to get some fresh air. Yurio looks shocked, his gaze darting between Yuuri and Viktor, and after a moment Viktor nods toward the door, a deep sigh escaping him.

"It's fine. Go with Yuuri. Someone should help him with groceries, and I can't be seen in public," Viktor says with a small, bitter smile.

Without another word, Yurio backs away from them both, disappearing deeper into the house to fetch his boots from downstairs. Viktor's gaze drops to the crack, and he sighs again, his shoulders sagging after Yurio has left the hallway. Neither of them say anything for a moment, wary of setting Yurio off again, but Viktor steps forward after a moment, into Yuuri's space. Yuuri bites his lip but lets him, tilting his head up to look at Viktor, seeing the bags under his eyes and worrying.

"You're not leaving right now, are you?" Yuuri asks quietly. Viktor shakes his head.

"I'll stay for dinner," Viktor replies, long fingers finding Yuuri's and wrapping around his pinky, a soft promise. "Take it easy, please? You're still recovering from the other day."

Yuuri nods slowly, taking a deep breath and letting Viktor's warmth soothe his turbulent thoughts. "I don't want Yurio to be seen and get hurt," he says after a moment, just barely a whisper, but Viktor smiles a little, reaching up to brush some hair from Yuuri's eyes.

"Don't worry about Yura, he will be fine. He can blend into crowds like a champion, and if he's with you, another Japanese person, they won't take a second look. Especially if he wears his sunglasses."

Yurio surfaces from the bunker a moment later, wearing large combat boots and a leopard print hoodie, a black breathing mask over his mouth and sunglasses over his eyes. Yuuri glances past Viktor and stares at him, raising his eyebrows, but says nothing in response to the scowl Yurio gives him.

"Come on, Yurio," Yuuri says, stepping away from Viktor and going to fetch his jacket and hat. Yurio steps past Viktor silently, ignoring him, and Viktor says nothing else to him. It hurts Yuuri a little to see them so closed off to each other, and he knows the fight is not resolved -- but at least both of them can clear their heads a little and calm down.

"And not break my floor again," he mutters in Japanese, and Yurio and Viktor both look at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," Yuuri says in English, finding his keys and wallet, then pulling out an old hat with pointed tips, almost like cat ears, and offering it to Yurio. The garment must not offend him, because he snatches it from Yuuri and pulls it on his head, and like this, he looks like a normal teenager.

Yuuri glances back at Viktor, barefoot in the hallway with his arms crossed and head bowed. Viktor looks up then and smiles at them both, though Yurio quickly looks away, yanking open the door and stomping out. 

" _Ittekimasu_ ," Yuuri says, soft and hesitant.

Viktor's smile widens a little, becoming a little more real, a little sweeter. " _Itterasshai._ "

Appeased for the moment, Yuuri makes to follow Yurio, then turns back around swiftly, frowning at Viktor. "You had better be here when we get back. Or else _I'll_ go after you, too," he warns, and he is satisfied when Viktor's eyes widen in alarm. He leaves without another word.

~*~

Despite Yuuri's anxiety, the bus ride and trip to the grocery store pass without incident. Yurio sits in silence beside him the entire time, yet as they get further and further from the house, Yurio seems to draw into himself, his lanky form hunching on the bus seat beside Yuuri. Instead of trying to make him talk, Yuuri gives him his space, offering his phone after a moment to let Yurio play a mindless game.

He half expects Yurio to disappear to the snack aisle when they reach the grocery store, but instead Yurio stays close to him, scrolling through Yuuri's phone with one eye on Yuuri himself. Yuuri gives him a small smile.

"What do you want for dinner?" Yuuri asks. After the fight, he thinks Yurio deserves to pick.

Yurio pushes his sunglasses up to perch on his hat, his eyebrows drawing together as he watches Yuuri. After a while, he mutters, " _Katsudon_ ," even though they just ate his mother's cooking yesterday. Yuuri's smile widens.

"It's my comfort food, too," he confides, and some of the desolate darkness in Yurio's mien dissipates, enough that the line in his brow fades. Yuuri leads him deeper into the store, pointing out the ingredients for _katsudon_ and some of his preferred brands, and after a little while, Yurio starts asking questions about them, small things, but Yuuri is simply glad that he is opening up to conversation.

Yuuri lets Yurio pick out whatever snacks he wants, and he is not surprised when Yurio dumps an armful of unhealthy foods into the basket, giving him a narrow look that Yuuri responds to with a smile. He is taken aback, though, when Yurio slips a few bills into his hand to help pay, staring at him for a moment. Yurio's face reddens, and he shrugs and slinks away to wait by the door, glowering at the display of hot foods.

Yuuri makes an impulsive decision. "Three meat buns, too, please," he tells the cashier, who rings him up and fetches him a bag of the treats. Yurio stares him as Yuuri takes the bags, shaking himself out of a daze after a moment and reaching over to take most of the plastic bags from Yuuri, ignoring him when he protests and slinging the bags over one shoulder.

"I could help," Yuuri mumbles.

"You're hurt, and I owe you," is all Yurio says in reply. Yuuri puzzles over that for a while, then wonders if Yurio means the crack in his floor -- which is fair, since Yurio is the one who caused it, though Viktor had goaded him into fighting in the first place.

"You don't," Yuuri says quietly after a moment, opening the paper bag and pulling out a bun to offer to Yurio. "Here, try this. You'll like it."

Yurio rolls his eyes. "You are so weird." He takes the bun and squeezes it a little, raising his eyebrows at the fluffy texture of the baked good. "Smells good," he mumbles, giving Yuuri another look and taking a bite. Yuuri grins when Yurio's eyes widen, laughing when he scarfs down the rest of the treat.

"I used to get these when I was coming home from school," Yuuri tells him, his voice lowering a bit, as if his sister will turn the corner and roll her eyes at him. "My sister would always lecture me for it, saying I was ruining my dinner, but my parents never minded. They're good, right?"

"Yeah," Yurio agrees, eyeing the bag with interest, and Yuuri's grin widens a little. He takes out another bun and tears it in half, offering one half to Yurio before biting into the other half. Yurio returns the grin with a small one of his own, his eyes lighting up as he bites into his half of the bun. "Japanese food is nothing like Russian food. Though we have pirozhki, which are kind of like these, but the bread isn't fluffy like this. My grandpa..." Yurio swallows and trails off, some of the light from his eyes fading, and Yuuri's smile fades, seeing the anguish in Yurio's eyes. "My grandpa made me pirozhki a lot when I was little. I haven't gotten to eat them in years... I haven't seen him in so long."

Yuuri wonders if he shouldn't pry, but the sadness on Yurio's face and the melancholy air about him makes him ache a little. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories, Yurio," Yuuri offers quietly, and Yurio breathes in sharply.

"They're not bad memories. None of my memories of him are bad. I just miss him." Yurio glances at him quickly, then away, keen eyes scanning the people walking on the opposite sidewalk, the shadows of the alleyways. "I haven't seen him in eight years. I moved from Moscow to St. Petersburg to train with Yakov when I was ten. Shit happened, and I got put in the program, and I couldn't go back to my family. They told them I was dead, hit my head in a skating accident or some bullshit, didn't even let them see a body. Even though it was a lie. Yakov said that they moved away, went to Europe. Once we get there, I'm going to look for them. Him and my mom and my aunt. And Beka."

Yuuri watches the tilt of Yurio's head, smiling a little to see the determination in the line of his cheek, the streetlamp behind him highlighting the shine of Yuuri's fair hair. Then he blinks in confusion. "Beka?"

Yurio glances at him again, blinking. Something in his gaze warms, turns soft with old wonder. "Otabek. I met him at Yakov's camp. He was a foreigner, and he was stolen not long after me, into the program... I knew he had gotten out, but I didn't know..."

_"It was Otabek. He contacted Yakov after he got out. He set up your escape. He's waiting for you, you know. We've been sending him those journals all this time..."_

"He's my friend," Yurio says quietly, some long forgotten feeling surfacing in his mien, faint beneath his melancholy. "I didn't realize Yakov had saved him."

Yuuri is silent for a long moment, his heart aching in his chest. "You should talk to Viktor about that. He should explain it properly. So long as he's still there," he adds worriedly, and Yurio snorts.

"He is. I've kept an ear on him this whole time. He's been crying to Makkachin about putting the crack in your floor." Yurio pauses for a long moment, his shoulders hunching a little. "Sorry about that."

Yuuri smiles a little as they reach the bus stop, tucking the last meat bun in his pocket to give to Viktor when they get back, relieved that Viktor has not snuck away. "I'll make sure one of you fixes it before you leave. Viktor can pay for it." Yurio looks over at him, takes in his grin, and starts laughing, his green eyes crinkling with humor. Yuuri is glad to hear it.

Perhaps after Yurio talks to Viktor, Yuuri will have his chance, too. He wants to talk to Viktor properly, to know what he is thinking, why he is going after this mysterious item. He has been trying not to think about it ever since he left the house. Yurio has been good to distract him, but despite the easy atmosphere between them, Yuuri's thoughts are unraveling, returning to Viktor's words. Viktor's promise. Viktor's departure.

He shakes his head abruptly, not wanting to dwell on the topic right now. "Where did you two even get so much money anyway?" Yuuri wonders aloud.

Yurio smirks. "Stole it. Mostly from drug dealers and shitty back alley creeps." He starts laughing again at Yuuri's look of horror.

" _What?_ "

~*~

Long after the lights are turned out, as Yuuri waits for sleep to claim him, the aches in his muscles nearly completely gone beneath painkillers, the door creaks open. Yuuri turns over halfway, tensing, but relaxes when he catches the faint shine of silvery hair, Viktor's eyes finding him in the dark.

"Hi," Viktor whispers. Yuuri says nothing in response, pulling back his covers instead, and Viktor crosses the room silently, slipping beneath the covers and pressing against Yuuri's side. His skin is cold, and Yuuri frowns sleepily, reaching out to rub Viktor's arm.

"Did you go outside?"

"Just for a little bit," Viktor whispers, wrapping an arm around Yuuri and tugging him close, hiding his face in Yuuri's hair. Yuuri immediately flushes at the closeness, not sure where the boundaries are between them, but Viktor only sighs, deep and heavy. "Wanted to clear my head."

"Did you talk to Yurio?"

"Some," Viktor acknowledges, sighing again. "He's asleep now." Yuuri smiles a little, relieved that Yurio and Viktor at least talked a little. He closes his eyes and allows himself relax into Viktor's embrace, content to warm him up. He is hovering between the easy contentment of sleep and the shyness of wakefulness, calm enough that he does not think of running away when Viktor's hand slides down his back, coming to rest against his hip with fingers splayed. 

"I wish you'd be here when I wake up," Yuuri whispers into Viktor's chest. He suspects that Viktor will disappear before Yuuri's dreams fade in the morning, and it hurts, to imagine Viktor disappearing into those woods and never coming back. He does not know all the details of the mission, for it could not be anything but a mission. Viktor had nudged Yurio downstairs while Yuuri bathed, ostensibly to talk while Yuuri was unable to listen to their conversation, and he has no idea what they discussed.

Viktor's arm tightens a little around him, and a moment later, he feels Viktor's lips at his temple, soft and a little dry. Yuuri's chest aches suddenly, fiercely, pressing closer to Viktor, not wanting him to leave.

"It's going to be dangerous," he whispers, twisting his fingers into Viktor's shirt, as if to drag him back from his duties. "You might get hurt. You might..."

"Shhh," Viktor murmurs, running long fingers back through Yuuri's hair, tilting his head back. Yuuri reluctantly opens his eyes and catches sight of Viktor's face up close, lit by the moonlight, his blue eyes nearly glowing. "I'll be fine. It won't take long at all. I'll be back before you know it, Yuuri."

"You're lying," Yuuri whispers. Viktor smiles a little, then leans in and kisses Yuuri, soft and sweet. Yuuri hushes, every nerve in his body thrumming, as if his entire body is an instrument, of which Viktor is a maestro. Viktor's lips part a little, spreading into a smile, letting out a faint huff of laughter, and Yuuri flushes abruptly, the singing in his veins turning to fire. He reaches up to touch Viktor's neck, his fingers dragging down a little, not sure where to put his hands, his legs. Suddenly he is far too aware of how close Viktor is, how their bodies are pressed together.

"Viktor," Yuuri gasps, and it might be a whimper. Viktor breathes in his plea, deepening the kiss a little more, though as they kiss, sharing breath and warmth, Yuuri becomes aware that Viktor is holding himself back, his kiss a little too gentle, his touches a little too soft. He wonders if Viktor fears using his strength, if Viktor is all too aware that he could easily break Yuuri if he lost even the slightest bit of control.

The thought thrills him and saddens him at the same time. To know that Viktor would keep himself from hurting Yuuri, and that in the same moment, he cannot relax with Yuuri... it hurts him. Yuuri wants Viktor to be at ease here; but he knows that Viktor cannot lose control, can only be gentle. He loves that Viktor tries so hard to be gentle with him. Maybe this is all Viktor can give him when Yuuri is so weak compared to him, but he accepts every gift gladly, covets every touch between them. 

"I'll come back to you," Viktor murmurs, kissing every word into Yuuri's mouth, drinking in his sighs and shivers. "Everything will be fine. It'll be fine," he whispers again, and if the last words are a promise to himself, a reassurance, then Yuuri will give him those words to believe for now. He needs them just as much.

Slowly they draw apart, eyes half-open in the darkness, and if Viktor sees the sheen in Yuuri's eyes, he says nothing about it, tilting his head to press another kiss to Yuuri's forehead and pulling him close again. Yuuri says nothing when he feels a few warm drops hit his cheeks, only tightens his arms around Viktor, giving him what he needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;D
> 
> Thank you all SO so much for supporting and reading this fic. You are all amazing. Let me know what you think!


	7. undercurrent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by [@moonbelowsea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonbelowsea/pseuds/moonbelowsea)!
> 
> Also, I have fixed a couple of name errors in previous chapters, and I've gone back and replaced Yuri's name with Yurio for easier reading.

In the morning, Viktor is gone. 

Yuuri wakes suddenly without a noise, hands reaching to his side, but the sheets are empty of anything, even warmth. He sits up slowly, staring down at his knees, the weight of Viktor's absence pressing him down, leaving him listless. His shift at work doesn't start until later, so Yuuri opts to stay in bed for a while, alternating between picking at the edge of his pillowcase and touching his lips where Viktor last kissed him.

He is drawn out of his thoughts when his bedroom door opens. Yuuri looks over, nonplussed, and sees Makkachin slip into the room. He sits up to greet her, patting the spot next to him where Viktor had slept, and Makkachin immediately takes over the space, sniffing furiously at the sheets before giving Yuuri a somber look.

His heart aches. "I miss him, too," Yuuri tells her. He eyes the door for a moment, wondering if Yurio will follow, but soon he hears the TV turn on, and he sighs to himself and slumps back into his pillows. Makkachin settles at his side, and he rubs her soft ears absently, tempted to go talk to Yurio. He decides against it, though. If Yurio wants to talk, he will come to Yuuri on his own, and Yuuri doesn't need to upset him by forcing the issue.

Instead he tugs over his laptop and opens it, absently checking his forums as he turns on his email server. The chat program pops up immediately with a blinking message, and with a sigh, Yuuri opens it.

 **cataclysmicbeauty** : _got the first one. this is some crazy stuff._

Yuuri sighs in relief at the message. He has sent the packages dutifully under Viktor's guidance, but international post takes forever, especially between Japan and Europe. He hopes the rest of the packages make it safely to Sara and Michele, the only friends other than Phichit from the U.S. that he still keeps in touch with. He never would have guessed, years ago, that he would be sharing the secrets of the Green Circle with them -- but he trusts them, if nothing else.

He wonders how much he should tell Phichit, since Sara already knows so much.

 **uminokishi** : _You see now why it needs to be uploaded._

 **cataclysmicbeauty** : _hell yeah. this is gonna be the biggest thing since the russians bought out wikileaks_

 **uminokishi** : _I've got some pics and vids for you too._

 **cataclysmicbeauty** : _yes!!! the usual server?_

 **uminokishi** : _No, this is too big. We need something more secure._

 **cataclysmicbeauty** : _np, I'll ask my brother to hook something up_

 **uminokishi** : _Ok. Is he still being a jerk over your boyfriend?_

 **cataclysmicbeauty** : _girlfriend now, and yes_

Yuuri shakes his head, smiling at the thought of Sara's exasperation at her overprotective brother. They had been just the same in college, where Sara had flirted outrageously with Yuuri, while Michele always fumed in the background. Phichit had found it hilarious. Yuuri, not so much -- he never understood the flirting.

Sara had known of the Green Circles before Yuuri did, to his surprise. She had looked at the theories and forums as more of a curiosity, but Yuuri had never told her how much he had known about it, nor about the circle he saw on Viktor. After he had left America, Yuuri had kept in touch with Sara and to an extent Michele, taking the news and pictures she found about the Circles and adding them to his notes. Until now, Yuuri doubts Sara has really known the extent of the Green Circle program. She has resources he doesn't have, though, and he trusts her to upload all of the notes to servers for distribution. Michele will help in that regard, even if he doesn't much like Yuuri.

His forums have no news, which Yuuri hopes is a good thing. If someone spotted Viktor -- or Crow, as he will probably appear -- in Japan, then there would be pictures, and everybody would be talking about it.

 **cataclysmicbeauty** : _the server will be up at 0:40. don't be late, square_

 **uminokishi** : _Thanks._

That gives him a few hours to encrypt the files until not even the NSA can get into them, which is something Yuuri always strives to do with all of his files. He sets his laptop aside and makes his way to his closet. In the back, hidden behind a secret panel, is a hidden safe, small and unobtrusive. He enters in the combination, silently opening it after the lock clicks and taking out a tray with several flash drives, a hard drive, and a few pieces of equipment that Yuuri is certain that the Japanese government would not approve of him owning.

He picks up the green flash drive and goes back to his computer. After he plugs it in and types in his passwords, the folder opens to show several video and picture files, which makes Yuuri take a deep breath. Somewhere in those files is Viktor, but Yuuri has always known him as Crow. He has looked at these files countless times over the years, examining every angle, writing down notes on all the possibilities and facts about each file, and yet today he will look upon them with new knowledge -- that he knows the person inside.

The first video is the oldest, and is the largest piece of evidence for Crow being affiliated with Russia, one of the more popular theories floating around Yuuri's forums. Grozny, Chechnya, is cold and wet in 2001, buildings crumbling and its few citizens hurrying along the roads in avoidance of the heavily armed patrols that keep sharp eyes on the shadows. Somehow they miss the figure standing in the back of an alley, who darts into the streets as soon as gunshots ring out.

Yuuri pauses the video as soon as the lithe figure of Crow joins the fray, taking a deep breath. That figure is Viktor, clothed completely in black, even his face covered, but the green glow of his eyes shines through the mesh on his face. After a moment, Yuuri continues the video, watching as Crow defends the Russian forces and takes out the rebels he meets. Crow is obviously young, and for a long time, many had suspected that Crow was female, based on his height and dancer's figure.

Yuuri thinks instead of Viktor's age now and does some quick math. Viktor had been at least fourteen in this video. An age when Yuuri had been worrying more about the local ice skating competitions than Russian conflicts. Barely a child anymore, yet hardly an adult, and still fighting alongside the Russian military forces occupying Chechnya.

He wonders how early they had started training Viktor. How early they trained Yurio.

On the screen, Crow disappears as soon as the last rebel falls under Russian gunfire. Yuuri swallows and plays the next video, which lasts only twelve seconds. The city is unknown, the source of the video anonymous, but Crow is taller, his shoulders filled out more. He looks more masculine, but lithe still, and he looks right at the camera, green eyes glowing fiercely.

Then he jumps five stories and disappears onto the roof. The ground explodes half a second later, and the video ends. 

Yuuri shivers a little, wondering if Viktor had heard the harsh breathing of the camera person, or if it was their heartbeat that drew his attention.

Grimacing, he plays the next video. Crow is somewhere deep in Chechnya again, clutching his shoulder as he leans against a wall, smoke and screaming in the background. Blood drips from his injured arm, through tears in the cloth that the camera cannot see, and the video zooms in and focuses on Crow's chest. The green circle glows eerily, lurid beneath the veneer of smoke and cloth, and the smooth black helmet that covers his features is askew, revealing brown hair. With a start, Yuuri realizes that this man isn't Viktor at all.

 _Another Circle. The shoulders are too narrow compared to Crow's last appearance, and the hair. Another teen?_ Quickly he jots down his thoughts on the video into a text file to send with the videos, sure that Sara and Michele will study it just as he is now. He knows there are other Circles, just from the intel he has collected over the years about disappearances and human trafficking, but so far they had believed that only Crow had ventured into the public eye before 2011.

He doesn't mention, in his notes, how he knows that Crow's hair is not brown. Sighing, Yuuri finishes his notes and continues playing videos while the encryption program runs.

Syria. Egypt. Chechnya, again. Syria, twice more. Afghanistan. Georgia. France. England. Iraq. Iran. Russia. China. Over and over, Crow appears in the midst of an armed conflict and involves himself as subtly as possible, by taking out snipers, pulling citizens out of harm's way, or leading belligerents away from civilian areas. 

Yuuri sees Viktor instead. He sees Viktor bleeding, in pain, performing amazing acts that terrify him for Viktor's safety. He recognizes the line of Viktor's shoulder, the tilt of his head toward the camera, somehow always aware when someone is filming him. At one point, Viktor even nods to the camera, acknowledging them -- and if Yuuri had ever needed convincing about whether or not Viktor was a good person, these videos would decide it.

He clicks on the next video, watching it play out another amazing feat. This time Crow is recorded in Afghanistan, far in the north where the mountains stretch to the sky in the distance. Two earthquakes have struck, and rumbling is still heard in the background in a small town, when Crow runs into view. The local man Crow grabs is undoubtedly shocked at seeing a man in such garments, but Crow's words must convince him that something serious is happening, because the man begins to shout, and everyone begins to run.

Yuuri pauses the video and checks a text file that accompanies it, with a transcription of the language and translations in English, French, and Russian.

_"There is a landslide! Everybody run! Take the children, take the mothers -- run!"_

When he continues the video, the camera pans up to the mountains, where a rock fall is tumbling down, heading straight for the village. The cameraperson runs to save their own life, dropping their device in the process, and the resulting image sits askew, still recording, as the villagers flee beneath the oncoming rocks. Crow darts between the rocks, grabbing people and pulling them out of the way, and Yuuri watches breathlessly, despite knowing what will happen. He read the news when it happened -- double earthquakes in 2012, nearly wiping out the village of Sayi Hazara. Only the appearance of a mysterious figure had saved more than half the village.

On the screen, a rock hits Crow's head and knocks him the ground, and Yuuri leans forward, holding his breath. Another rock, larger than the first, rolls straight at Crow, who forces himself off the ground and slams a fist into the rock when it reaches him, shattering it. The debris hits his head again, and Crow staggers, parts of his helmet falling to the ground. A moment later, a large stone falls in front of the camera, and the rest of the video is dark before it ends.

Yuuri sits still, eyes wide, then goes to the end of the video again. He is careful to pause on the few frames of Crow standing amidst the rubble after his helmet broke.

If he squints, he can see a hint of silver amidst the browns, greys, and blacks of the video, beyond the glowing green of Crow's eyes. Viktor's hair.

"Viktor," Yuuri whispers, wondering suddenly how Viktor had escaped that mess, and how he hadn't ended up in the news. The landslide had been on the international news, and several sources had said that a stranger had helped them, but most had assumed that the stranger had perished in the landslide alongside the villagers. Yuuri knows otherwise, but he wonders how Viktor had ended up in that place anyway, and how he had gotten home. If he had gotten in trouble with his superiors for helping save lives, when he was meant to be destroying them.

Worst of all, Yuuri has no idea if he should include this revelation in his notes to Sara. Any hint of Crow's identity would be amazing -- but Yuuri hadn't addressed the issue with Viktor. He has no idea what Viktor thinks of revealing himself as Crow.

He might never know, if Viktor doesn't come home.

His breath hitches, and Yuuri reaches up to his face, finding tears. He shakes them off, but the tears keep dribbling out, forcing him to find a tissue. He cannot think about that -- not now, not with Yurio in the other room, not with work in a few hours. Maybe later when he is alone and does not have so much riding on his shoulders.

After a deep breath, Yuuri wipes the tears away, finishes his encryption, and goes to deposit the files on the server. Later. He can worry later.

~

The next day, Viktor has not returned, and Yuuri is beyond worried. He spends ten minutes opening and closing WhatsApp, hoping for a new notification, but nothing pops up; Viktor is maintaining radio silence, and it grates on Yuuri's nerves. After a little while of moping, the door opens, and Yuuri sits up a bit, thinking his visitor is Makkachin again -- but instead, he sees Yurio standing there, the slump of his shoulders enough to clue him in that Yurio feels just as bad.

"Want breakfast?" Yuuri asks after a moment. Yurio scowls a little but nods.

Yuuri prepares a simple breakfast for them, and after eating in silence, he joins Yurio on the couch to watch television, Makkachin laying down between them. Every so often he glances toward the door, and at one point, he catches both Makkachin and Yurio doing the same thing. A laugh bubbles out of him, startling his couch mates, and Yuuri shakes his head, gesturing between them.

"We're pathetic," he says, smiling at Yurio. "He's not even been gone a day. He would be upset at us moping like this."

Yurio blinks at him, then snorts, some tension in him draining away. "He's an idiot like that. I know it's gonna do us shit all to worry about him. Can't help it though."

Yuuri's humor fades, his smile staying a little sad. "Yeah... you're right. We can't help it." He glances at the clock, realizing he should be getting ready for work, and catches Yurio's attention again. "Say... how about we have a movie night? I'll get a bunch of snacks and stop by the video store."

Yurio's eyes narrow as he takes in Yuuri's offer, studying him for a long moment. "I don't need your pity."

Yuuri meets his stare evenly. "You don't have it. We're friends, Yurio." The teen holds his stare for all of a minute before he scoffs and looks away, but the tension drains out of his shoulders, enough that Yuuri can smile again.

Work drags by. His bruises are more yellow-green spots than bruises now, but his manager puts him on cashier duty instead of stocking, so Yuuri passes the hours slowly, his smile worn by the end of his shift. When he finally makes it to the video store, he is briefly stumped by the question of, _what would Yurio like?_ He solves that problem by renting a wide range of shows that, if nothing else, he and Yurio will enjoy by making fun of them. 

When he gets home, Yurio isn't anywhere to be seen, nor is Makkachin. Yuuri supposes they must be downstairs napping, so he settles on the couch to wait for a while. He turns on the news and immediately makes a face -- some drivel about the upcoming robotics convention and which companies would be showing off their new tech.

Yuuri pauses, frowning at the television screen as the reporter mentions Viktor Nikiforov's name, and abruptly remembers a similar story a few weeks ago, before Crow and Sparrow came into his life.

"...the upcoming International Summit. Following the summit will be the International Robotics Exhibit, where companies will showcase their new tech. Fans going to the convention will be pleased to meet Viktor Nikiforov, who has been recuperating in his hometown of St. Petersburg, under the watchful eye of Russian doctors. Nikiforov, 30, will be a guest speaker at the convention, after taking part in the International Summit..."

A shiver runs through Yuuri. How is Viktor supposed to be a guest speaker when he is hiding out in Yuuri's basement? More than ever, Yuuri wishes Viktor were here to explain. Maybe the government is afraid of the public finding out that Viktor has gone rogue?

He sighs, slumping back on the couch. He just doesn't know.

The sound of the door closing startles Yuuri out of his thoughts, and he climbs to his feet, tense and uncertain -- then hears Makkachin barking, a moment before she bounds into the room and puts her paws on his stomach, panting at him happily. Yuuri stares down at her, nonplussed, and looks up to see Yurio standing in the hallway, pulling off one of Yuuri's jackets. He has not noticed Yuuri yet -- or perhaps he has, and is pretending to ignore him.

"You went outside?" Yuuri asks, his voice going a little high. He glances at the window; still light outside.

Yurio stills, then yanks off his hat and tosses it over the bowl where Yuuri leaves his keys, turning a glare onto Yuuri. "Yeah. What's it to you?"

Yuuri reaches blindly for Makkachin's paws, to hold onto something. "Yurio, you can't go outside. What if someone saw you? Did you take Makkachin? We're supposed to walk her at night only --"

Rolling his eyes, Yurio brushes past Yuuri and flops onto the couch with a grumble. "It was fine, _katsudon_. It doesn't fucking matter. Nobody saw me, nobody cares."

Slowly, gently, Yuuri lowers Makkachin, watching her jump onto the couch beside Yurio. He realizes he is shaking. "You... you can't just risk everything like that. Viktor said --"

"Viktor's not here," Yurio snaps, loud and harsh, and in the silence that follows, Yuuri flinches. He says nothing, holding Yurio's stare, until the teen looks away.

"Please don't risk your safety like this. If you're upset about something, you can talk it out with me. If you want something to do, I can help you find something. Just... please talk to me," Yuuri asks softly, watching Yurio for another moment, but the teen ignores him, instead changing the channel on the television and turning up the volume. Makkachin looks between them, her ears perked up at the tension in Yuuri's voice, and finally Yuuri sighs, leaving him alone.

Yuuri doesn't know how to handle him. If Viktor were here...

He shakes his head and focuses on preparing dinner. Viktor isn't here -- and Yuuri will have to handle Yurio on his own.

~

That night, they don't watch any of the DVDs that Yuuri rented -- instead, Yurio goes downstairs after a silent but tense dinner, and Makkachin takes over the end of Yuuri's bed, whining a little after she sniffs at the spot where Viktor slept.

"I know," Yuuri says softly, scratching her ears. He closes his eyes and drifts for a little while, but soon his night turns to tossing and turning. He worries that the government will catch Viktor and force him to go to the robotics convention, and whenever he drifts off, his dreams are startling and clear, of Viktor held by robots in front of Japan.

The third time he suffers from such a dream, Yuuri wakes to a hand shaking his shoulder, and he turns over to find Yurio standing beside his bed, hair disheveled, his green eyes wide in the dim light. Makkachin sits up from her spot beside Yuuri and puts a paw on Yurio's arm. 

"I can't sleep," Yurio says in a rush, and to Yuuri, he looks miserable. "I keep thinking -- what if he needs help? What if he gets caught, what if he doesn't -- doesn't --" He cuts himself off, but Yuuri understands his meaning. The same fears have been plaguing him ever since Viktor left. Wordlessly, Yuuri scoots over and pats the mattress, until Yurio gets the hint. The look Yurio gives him is amusing in hindsight, but Yuuri only smiles at him. It strikes him now, how young Yurio really is, though he hides it behind a veneer of arrogance.

"Hand me my laptop," Yuuri says after a moment, pushing his pillow back. "Let's watch some anime." He leans over to rummage for the bag of DVDs he left on his bedside table, pulling out the first one and not caring what it might be.

After fetching the laptop, Yurio crawls into bed beside Yuuri, tucking his feet under Makkachin and taking over most of the pillows, looking strangely small in the spot where Viktor once lay, for all that he is taller than Yuuri. Instead of commenting, Yuuri slides the first disk in and sets it between their legs to play, staying quiet as the anime opening starts.

Two episodes later, he looks over to see Yurio wiping his eyes. Alarmed, Yuuri reaches for him, and Yurio knocks his hand away, then immediately looks sorry for it. Yuuri lowers his hand to his lap and smiles a little.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, and a stricken expression touches Yurio's face for a moment, seconds before the tears worsen. Yurio angrily wipes them away, and Yuuri is about to turn politely back to the show, when Yurio speaks.

"I'm so mad at him. He always pulls shit like this. And I've told him, we've all told him over and over, it's not okay when he goes off alone to do dangerous shit." Yurio scowls as he mutters the last words, pulling his knees to his chest and glaring at the laptop screen.

Yuuri blinks a few times, thrown. "He's done this type of thing before?"

A loud sigh escapes Yurio, his long hair falling in his face. He pushes it back angrily and tugs a rubber band off his wrist, tying it back in a bun. "Constantly. They'd pass down these missions, right, or he'd hear about something happening, and I have no clue where he got his information all the time. But he'd fuck off without telling anyone or asking for help, and for a long time, everyone thought he wanted all the glory for himself."

That doesn't sound like Viktor, though. Maybe Viktor's public persona... but not the Viktor Yuuri has come to know. Yurio seems to read his thoughts and nods, hugging his knees close.

"Right, exactly. Viktor doesn't care about that. He was protecting us, the whole time, keeping us off the most dangerous missions. Taking the heat when the brass got angry if something went wrong. He tried to keep us safe. Did a good job of it, too, until they put him in the spotlight."

Yuuri turns the volume down a little and leans back, trying not to show his eagerness for this new side of Viktor. He knows very little about the Circles' training and daily life, beyond what little Viktor has shared.

As Viktor told it, the Circles are trained in combat, foreign languages, weapons handling, and espionage from whatever age they become Circles. Yuuri knows even less about the process of becoming a Green Circle, only that surgery is involved, combined with some sort of serum that changes the subject's biology. Viktor had said very little about it, as if the memories had haunted him, and Yuuri hadn't pressed for more details, even when they had discussed his journals. 

_"Oh, it's a complicated process... I don't remember much of it. I was very young, after all."_

Yuuri had hated that darkness lingering behind Viktor's forced cheer and had never brought up the topic again. 

He considers Yurio's words for a moment, then blinks as a realization comes to him. He sits up, accidentally knocking the laptop sideways, and distractedly sets it upright again. "Oh... is that why most of the Green Circle sightings are of Crow?"

Yurio pins him with a stare, then shrugs, pulling at a lock of hair that falls in his face again. "Maybe. They're all masked, aren't they?"

"Yes... and you know, maybe they're not all Viktor. Most people assumed it was only one person, for a long time."

"Mm, yeah," Yurio replies, sighing heavily. "Sometimes I think he got himself noticed on purpose. We had orders to avoid anyone with a phone or a security system, but like I said, he never followed orders."

Yuuri nods a little, thinking of the videos he has seen -- many of them from security cameras, in fact. "Maybe... I mean, a lot of the videos show him doing awful things, but in some of them, he's saving people, too. People that, probably, he was supposed to leave alone or... um, assassinate. Maybe. I didn't get a chance to show him the videos."

After a moment of silence, Yurio turns his head slowly to stare at Yuuri. "You have videos?"

One trip to his safe later, Yuuri has shoved the DVDs aside and is typing in his passwords, opening the folder with the videos. Wordlessly he hands the laptop to Yurio, his heart beating a bit faster as he leans over to watch over Yurio's shoulder.

"Shit," Yurio whispers as the first video plays, staring wide-eyed at the much younger Crow. "This was years ago. Probably one of his first missions. He's tiny!"

"I was thinking he'd be about fourteen here. There's the date on the video," Yuuri points out on the screen, and Yurio hisses as the video continues. 

"I knew he had to be in Chechnya! It was awful there, and nobody would talk about it, and Viktor _hates_ going to Chechnya!"

At first, Yurio picks videos at random, playing them and muttering every time he sees Crow. Finally he snarls and shoves the laptop back, sitting forward and putting the files in a playlist, then setting them to play again. This time, Yurio watches silently, and after a moment Yuuri realizes that his eyes are glowing green, his heightened senses activated.

"Can you hear more like that?" Yuuri whispers between videos. Yurio glances at him briefly and nods.

"It helps," is all he replies, as the next video plays. Yuuri stays silent after that, and whatever Yurio hears from the tinny laptop speakers, he doesn't explain.

When the last video stops, Yurio starts the playlist over. "I'm gonna kill him when he gets back," Yurio fumes, watching the young Crow shoot someone in the back. "He never told me any of this. I'm sure, yeah, they ordered him not to talk about his missions, but Viktor hated obeying them anyway, and he always made me tell him about my missions. I didn't do anything like this. They mostly had us doing reconnaissance."

"He was trying to protect you?" Yuuri asks softly, and Yurio's shoulders bunch up abruptly, then slowly drop as he sighs.

"Probably. He got so pissed every time a kid was brought in. He would argue with the brass, and then they'd take him away to punish him, and he'd come back silent and empty... it was horrible. Nobody hates this program more than Viktor," Yurio says quietly, his fist clenching over his knee. "Not even me. I hated seeing him like that."

Yuuri smiles a little, pulling his leg up to his chest, his fingers running along his bare ankle. "You really care about him, don't you?"

"I can't help it. He's dumb and he cries too much and he's a giant prick when he wants to be, but... he's my friend. I hate him. He shouldn't have left us!" After a moment, Yurio sighs. "He was always doing shit like that, though. He looked after us. The kids in his command, he watched over us and kept us from killing ourselves. He forced us to band together and befriend each other, so we would have someone to look out for. If the brass got pissed at someone, he took the punishment for it. He was always getting a beating, or someone was yelling at him. It was miserable."

Past the edge of the laptop, Makkachin wheezes in her sleep, and Yurio's face twists with old pain. "He did everything to make us happy. Everything he could. He even brought in that dog, and everyone _loved_ her, and we all kept her a secret, because that dog was the only thing that really made _him_ happy. The rest of the time, he was miserable, more than all of us combined."

For a long moment, Yuuri can only breathe in the silence, his heart aching for Viktor. More than anything, he wishes Viktor would contact them, if only to give an update. After only a thought, he reaches for his phone and flicks open WhatsApp, but finds no new messages from Viktor's number, his shoulders slumping.

He senses Yurio glancing over and has to smother the instinct to close the app and hide his phone. Yurio snorts after a moment, his fingers tapping on the laptop keyboard, paused between videos. "You know, he didn't really smile before he met you."

Yuuri twists around to stare at him. "What?"

"Well, he smiled. Fake smiles, all the time. All the shit you see on the news, it was fake. He's a pro at it. But with you?" Yurio glances at him again, his glowing green eyes nearly blinding Yuuri in the darkened room. "You make him happy. You and Makkachin are the only people he really smiles for."

Yuuri doesn't even know what to say to that. He fumbles a little, rubbing the back of his head nervously, thinking of Viktor's smile under the starlight, and his face flushes a little. Makkachin's ear perks a little at her name, but otherwise the poodle stays asleep.

"He smiles for you, too," Yuuri tries, and Yurio scoffs.

"Only when I'm not bitching at him, and it's still fake. He's not relaxed, not like with you. He _likes_ you, idiot," Yurio tells him, and Yuuri feels his blush worsen, the tips of his ears burning.

"A-anyway, um, do you want to keep watching these?" Yuuri asks hurriedly, waving at the laptop. "Or we could continue that show, if you want. I don't mind..."

Beside him, Yurio snorts, but doesn't push him further. "Right, I don't care. But I'm not sleeping downstairs again," he mutters, and Yuuri blinks, startled by his pouting tone. "I'll listen for anyone, alright? Just... let me stay up here for a while."

After a moment, Yuuri smiles, reaching over to touch Yurio's shoulder. "That's fine with me, Yurio."

He hears a faint sniff, and the glow from Yurio's eyes abruptly fades. "Play the damn video, _katsudon._ "

~

A week of silence. Not a single message from Viktor, and Yuuri is hardly sleeping anymore. Yurio isn't much better, and that is the only reason that Yuuri agrees to let Yurio take Makkachin for a walk in the woods after dinner. Makkachin has been antsy all day, and Yuuri hopes she will calm a bit after burning off some of that energy -- and he wishes the same for Yurio, who has been pacing around the living room every day, cursing Viktor under his breath.

Yuuri hates to let them go, though. He always frets whenever Yurio leaves the house, though Yurio has shown himself to be remarkably good at avoiding detection outside. Even when Yuuri is with him, on the rare grocery trips when Yurio accompanies him, few people actually notice Yurio skulking in the background. It amuses Yuuri, to some degree, because Yurio is usually so expressive and attention-grabbing, otherwise.

With a long sigh, Yuuri sinks into the couch and turns on the television, listening half-heartedly to the news. The weather report is hinting at snow, which Yuuri hopes will miss them, so that Viktor has no problems traveling.

"Today, Denten Robotics reported a power outage at its Fukuoka plant. Officials insisted that the power outage was accidental, but several business owners operating near the plant reported what appears to be an explosion from inside the property. Students from a nearby middle school reported hearing a loud popping noise at the same time as the apparent explosion. Officials from Denten Robotics had no further comments, only restating that the power outage was accidental."

Yuuri raises an eyebrow, leaning forward to watch the video of the plant. Far in the background, he can see a few trails of smoke rising from behind the building, but he can't tell if they are merely smoke stacks or actual indications of damage.

"Denten Robotics," he murmurs, considering. The name rings a bell, but he cannot remember where he heard of it last...

Yuuri is distracted, though, by a sudden noise nearby. " _Katsudon_ ," hisses Yurio from the hallway, and Yuuri jumps, his heart jumping in his throat. He hadn't heard the door open. When he looks over, Yurio is crouched in the hallway, his eyes glowing brightly. Yuuri's heart beats anew, fear striking through him, and Yurio glares at him.

"Are the curtains all shut?" Yurio whispers, and Yuuri hesitates, his gaze darting between all the windows. After a moment he holds up one finger. Yurio scowls. "Come this way, but casually. Don't panic."

"Okay," Yuuri whispers, standing and walking past the window, which faces the front of the house. He glimpses a nondescript black car parked on the side of the road, and his heart jumps in his throat.

"Don't panic," repeats Yurio, and Yuuri takes it to heart, forcing himself to ignore the car as he walks to the hallway. Yurio grabs his wrist when he is out of sight of the window and drags him down the hall to the closet door, where the hatch is still open. "Go in first," Yurio orders, and Yuuri climbs down, finding Makkachin waiting at the bottom, her tail wagging. Yurio jumps down after him after pulling the closet door shut, and he backs Yuuri against the wall, glaring in the direction of the street.

"That car wasn't there when I left," Yurio whispers. "I didn't notice it. Did anyone come to the door?"

"No," Yuuri replies, just as quiet. He sinks down to the floor and wraps his arms around Makkachin, who presses her cold nose to his cheek. It can't be another STF raid -- there would be more cars. "Sometimes people go for walks in the woods..."

"There's someone in that car," Yurio mutters, and Yuuri closes his mouth over a whimper. He wishes Viktor were here.

They wait like that for an hour, Yurio standing guard over Yuuri, who spends the whole hour trying not to panic. He ends up putting his head between his knees, focusing on his breathing with one hand clutching Makkachin's curls.

_Viktor, please come back. I'm scared. I can't do this without you._

He hates the thought, because he knows Yurio is doing his best -- but he also knows that Yurio wants Viktor back just as much as he does.

Finally Yurio sighs, the tension draining out of him. "They drove away. Headed back into town, sounds like." He looks down at Yuuri, who slowly lifts his head and stares at him, and another scowl crosses his fine features. "C'mon," Yurio mutters, holding out a hand, and Yuuri reaches up to grasp it.

Yuuri sleeps downstairs that night, huddled on Viktor's cot with his face hidden in Makkachin's fur.

~

There is no sign of the car the next day, though, and Yuuri hesitantly goes to work as normal, after promising Yurio he will come straight home afterwards.

"Don't talk to anybody, and don't you dare go near any cars with tinted windows. Keep your phone on you at all times. And _don't_ get kidnapped, okay?"

"Okay, Yurio."

Nothing happens, though, and Yuuri doesn't see another car outside his house. He overthinks it as he prepares dinner that night, wondering if someone was taking a walk through the woods nearby and the driver just didn't want to stomp through the ice and slush with their family member. His paranoia smacks some sense into him, though -- the best walking paths are further down his road, and with the subterfuge he is carrying on, why else would someone be parked outside his house?

Yuuri frets, and Yurio hovers protectively in the background the whole time. Yuuri checks his phone obsessively as they eat, and Yurio keeps a sharp ear out. Nothing happens, though.

Later that night, Yuuri gets in an argument with Yurio about who will walk Makkachin.

"You can't defend yourself if someone attacks you," Yurio snaps at him, and Yuuri bites down harshly on his lip before he replies.

"If you're seen, then they'll report you, or capture you. You need to stay out of sight."

"Viktor told me to protect you!"

"I don't care!" Yuuri shouts suddenly, throwing his hands in the air. "Viktor isn't here, like you said! I'm trying to protect _you_ , Yurio! If someone is spying on me, then they'll expect to see me outside -- not a strange Russian man! And Makkachin needs to pee, and I'm tired of arguing with you about it!" He grabs the leash from Yurio before he can protest and tugs on his hat, pulling open the door and glaring over his shoulder.

"I'm going," Yuuri says with finality, and he closes the door on Yurio's snarl.

About two minutes of stomping through snow later, Yuuri feels awful for his behavior. Yurio is just trying to look after him, and here is Yuuri, yelling at him for being his friend. Yurio doesn't deserve to be treated that way, and with a shaky sigh, Yuuri promises himself that he will apologize and fix something special for Yurio for breakfast.

Makkachin walks in front of him, unusually quiet for the excursion, and Yuuri watches her for a little while, his chest aching. She has been behaving very well while Viktor is gone, but it is obvious that she misses him. Absently, Yuuri checks his phone, but there are no messages from Viktor, as usual. He sighs again, tilting his head up to look at the snow-covered branches, watching his breath fog up the air in front of him.

All of a sudden, Makkachin stops short, her ears perked. Then she barks and runs off into the woods, jerking her leash out of Yuuri's grip, and he scrambles to catch her.

"Makkachin, no!" Yuuri calls, chasing after her into the snow-covered woods. Makkachin doesn't slow even for her name, and soon Yuuri is wheezing with the realization that he is far too out of shape to run like this. His ribs give a painful twinge, an echo of his bruises that have already faded from his skin, but Yuuri breathes through the ache, determined to catch Makkachin. He refuses to lose Viktor's dog.

Finally Makkachin stops by a large tree, letting out a peeling whine, and a few minutes later, Yuuri stumbles to a stop beside her, gasping as he grabs his knees. "Makkachin," he whimpers, reaching for her leash, "you can't just run off like... that..."

His voice fails him. Slumped against the tree, the snow around him slowly staining red, is Viktor.

"Viktor," Yuuri says blankly, the word strangled in his throat. Makkachin is whining, a low noise that borders on a growl, frantic as she licks at Viktor's face. A moment later, dull blue eyes open, and Viktor raises his head a little, finding Yuuri staring at him.

He smiles, and Yuuri can see blood at the corner of his mouth. "Yuuri," Viktor murmurs, before sliding sideways. 

Yuuri gasps and darts forward to catch him, flinching when he realizes that Viktor's black coat is damp and cold. How long has he been outside? "Viktor! Viktor, no," Yuuri pleads, struggling to hold him up, but Viktor is heavy, and Makkachin is climbing into his lap, just as worried as Yuuri. "Viktor, please wake up, I can't carry you --"

"Move, I'll get him," Yuuri hears, and he turns to find Yurio stomping up, kicking the red snow out of the way and pulling Yuuri back. Yuuri lets him, blindly reaching for Makkachin's collar and holding her still, as Yurio heaves Viktor into his arms and stands up straight. He looks at Yuuri and nods toward the house, his expression tense, but Yuuri takes comfort in it -- he trusts Yurio to know what to do.

"Let's go," Yurio snaps, and Yuuri starts to realize that his voice is shaking, just like Yuuri's hands. Quickly he scrambles up and follows as Yurio hurries back to the house, his eyes on the back of Viktor's head, terrified of what could have injured someone as strong as Viktor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so happy to announce that this story has fanart! The amazing @pushpullds has drawn [this gorgeous art of Chapter 1](https://amberstarfight.tumblr.com/post/158011889889/pushpullds-a-quick-draw-from-the-crow-upon-the)! Thank you so much!! Please go and give all the kudos and admiration!
> 
> Let me know what you think! (*´♡`*)


	8. riptide

On the way back to the house, it begins to snow fat, wet flakes that melt into Yuuri's hair and drip down his glasses. Yuuri wipes his face with his arm and smears the icy droplets, but his eyes remain on the back of Viktor's head as he follows Yurio to the hidden door. He helps Yurio by holding the door open, watching helplessly as he carries Viktor over to one of the cots and carefully sets him down. Viktor doesn't respond to the movement, and after a short moment, Yuuri follows Yurio inside, Makkachin at his heels. He locks the door shut.

"Makkachin, sit," Yurio snaps, pulling a knife from his boot and flicking it open with a faint _shick_. "Katsudon, c'mere. We need to undress him." 

Makkachin doesn't respond to the order, the first sign of disobedience that Yuuri has ever seen. Instead she is crowding against Viktor, making little whimpering noises in her throat, and when Yurio lifts the knife toward Viktor, she actually growls.

"Makkachin," Yuuri says in shock.

Yurio's eyes narrow. "Makka," he says slowly, lowering the knife for a moment. "Sit," he says forcefully, and Makkachin lowers her tail and backs away, sitting at the end of the bed. Yurio exhales and glances at Yuuri. "Get that brown box under the cot and bring it here."

Yuuri swallows and moves to obey, pausing briefly to pat Makkachin on the head, then carrying the box over to Yurio's side and dropping it. Meanwhile, Yurio is unbuttoning and unzipping Viktor's clothes, cutting where he needs to get the wet clothes off Viktor's unconscious body.

"Now go wash your hands."

"Okay," Yuuri obeys, a faint hitch in his voice. He moves to Yurio's side and follows his sharp orders, carefully peeling Viktor's coat, padded vest, and shirt off. At one point Yurio lets out a sharp exclamation when he digs around in Viktor's pockets and finds several flash drives and a small black box, but he doesn't let Yuuri look at them too closely, shoving them in a bag instead.

Yuuri doesn't ask. He can only guess that Viktor retrieved the item he was hunting for, but to Yuuri, the cost seems too high.

When he drops the last scrap of Viktor's shirt on the floor, Yuuri looks down and realizes that his hands are covered with blood. He stops breathing for a moment, his gaze jerking to Viktor's body, which is littered with bruises and marks, signs of a fight, or a beating, and far worse than what Yuuri suffered at the hands of the STF. Worst of all, there is a sluggishly bleeding wound in his left side, the edges of the skin around the wound pinched white.

"He got shot," Yurio says grimly. "We're lucky because it was from a handgun. Wash your hands, we have to get the bullet out."

Yuuri cannot stop staring at the blood. A bullet wound -- _Viktor got shot._ This isn't just striving against a group of people in power; this is a violent war with consequences and suffering, and Yuuri has been living in a world of reports and news articles and secrets, without ever imagining that violence would come to his door. Not even the STF raid had shocked him like Viktor's blood on his hands does.

He doesn't hear Yurio for a moment, until fingers snap in front of his face and Yurio all but bellows into his ear, "Yuuri Katsuki!"

Yuuri startles badly and flails back, grasping for something to hold onto. His wet fingers slip on the wall, but Yuuri manages to upright himself, looking up to see Yurio scowling at him. His heart beats fast in his throat, and it's all he can do not to look at the wall.

They stare at each other for a long moment. Makkachin makes a whining noise, torn from her attention to Viktor, but soon looks back to her master, fretting. Finally Yurio exhales, a little warily. "Alright?"

Yuuri averts his gaze. He doesn't look at his hands. "Yeah. Um, sorry."

"It's fine, just go wash your hands. Then put these on," Yurio orders, dropping a pair of plastic gloves on Viktor's leg, then kneeling down beside the cot. Yuuri swallows against the bile in his throat, then squares his shoulders and goes to do as Yurio directs, leaving his coat on the floor. Using the small sink on the other side of the room, Yuuri washes the blood away without looking too closely at the pink suds. He also takes a moment to fill a bowl with water. Then he carries the bowl over to Yurio and sets it on the floor before kneeling beside him, taking the gloves to pull them on.

"What," Yuuri pauses, swallowing briefly at seeing Viktor's blood, then forces himself to focus. "What do we do?"

"I'm gonna get the bullet out of him. You're going to wipe up any blood that gushes out, and then we'll bandage him up. It doesn't look deep, and it probably missed his organs if he managed to make it all the way here on foot." Yurio does not look comforted by that fact, though. "He's lost a lot of blood."

Yuuri watches as Yurio takes out a syringe from the medical kit and fills it with a clear liquid, then looks away when he gives Viktor the shot, likely a painkiller. "Will he be okay?" Yuuri asks, a little hushed. He doesn't want to think about what might happen if they can't help Viktor.

Yurio sets the syringe down and pulls out a pair of medical tweezers and a small knife. "Once we get the bullet out of him. It's keeping him from healing. The rest of it... it's up to Viktor."

Yuuri closes his eyes briefly. His vision washes red behind his eyelids, and he opens his eyes again, forcefully not thinking about the mess on his hands earlier. He picks up one of the clean rags that Yurio sets out for him, taking a deep breath and rolling up his sleeves. "Okay. I'm ready."

The operation doesn't last long, thankfully. Yurio has clearly been trained in emergency medical procedures and manages to remove the bullet from Viktor's flesh with little extra trauma, and all the while Yuuri hovers next to him, catching the blood that spills from the dark wound when the bullet finally comes out. Yurio pushes Yuuri's hand up to press tightly against the wound while he goes to wash his hands again, and for a short moment, Yuuri can only feel the warmth of Viktor's body beneath his fingers, alive and yet in such peril. 

When he returns, Yurio spends several careful minutes sewing up the wound with thick stitches. Yuuri fights nausea the entire time. Makkachin sits at the end of the cot, silent while her eyes stay fastened to Viktor's face, and every so often Yuuri manages to smile at her, using Makkachin's anxiety as a guard against his own terror. It's easier to handle his own doubts and worries if he worries about someone else.

When finally the last bit of blood is cleaned away, Viktor's abdomen cleanly stitched and his face perhaps a little more relaxed, Yurio finally sighs and leans back, stretching his arms back. He grimaces at the blood on his clothes, then glances over at Yuuri, who is staring at Viktor with a lost expression, his bloody fingers twitching against his thighs.

Does Viktor look a little better? His face is pale as it was when Yuuri found him, but he is breathing a little easier, maybe? Yuuri just cannot tell. He has no medical knowledge, but the little he knows has him worried that Viktor has lost too much blood. "What blood type is Viktor?" Yuuri asks, not looking away from Viktor's pained features.

Yurio grunts and starts to gather the medical waste on the floor. "Don't worry about that."

Worrying is the only thing Yuuri can do right now. "But --"

"I said don't worry about it! That's not gonna be what kills him, katsudon," Yurio bites out, then closes his mouth abruptly when Yuuri goes pale, glancing briefly at him then away. Yuuri's gaze lands on the bloody handprint on the wall that he left when he slipped earlier, and he flinches and stands, hurrying over to the sink to clean himself up.

Yurio doesn't say anything else, and after a moment, he continues cleaning up, dumping all the dirty bandages, empty medication packets, and trash in a waste basket in the corner. Yuuri stares down at the water running over his hands, the soap suds turning pink as the blood that got past the gloves mixes into the foam. Viktor's blood, as red as his own, and all the more horrific, because Yuuri has no idea how Viktor got hurt.

He feels a little dizzy, which means a panic attack might be approaching. This is the worst time to have one, so Yuuri closes his eyes, takes a steadying breath, and then finishes cleaning up. When he reaches for the ladder though, Yurio stops him and pushes him over to the other cot, making him sit down.

"We need to stay down here tonight. If Viktor was followed, then this is the safest place for us. All of us. You can sleep here again."

Yuuri is too tired to fight him on it. He sinks down onto the cot, dragging his boots off and settling in to rest, though for the life of him, he can't imagine sleeping. Yurio busies himself with taking stock of all the medicine in the med kit, and Makkachin presses her nose to Viktor's hand before hopping onto the cot with Yuuri. After scratching her ears for a few minutes, Yuuri turns his head to look at Viktor. 

His thoughts twist around, worrying, fretting. Where had Viktor gone, that he had ended up shot by someone? Did they follow him? Did he succeed in his mission?

A noise alerts him to Yurio heading up the ladder. Yurio catches his curious expression and looks away. "Gonna get your laptop and phone. Viktor doesn't have his phone, and I need to contact Mila."

"Mila?"

"A friend. She's a hacker, like you." Then Yurio disappears upstairs, and abruptly, Yuuri remembers that he had argued with Yurio earlier. That evening fight seems so far away, and with a low sigh, Yuuri returns to staring at Viktor, his eyelids slowly growing heavy, until he has to close his eyes.

Yurio returns sometime later and spends a few minutes messing with Yuuri's phone, before shoving it in his pocket and sitting down nearby. Yuuri opens his eyes briefly to watch him open the laptop, the screen lighting up his tired features.

"I'm sorry for earlier," Yuuri says quietly. Yurio's eyes flick up to him, but there is no animosity in them, only bone-deep exhaustion, and oddly enough, determination.

"Just go to sleep, katsudon."

"'Kay," Yuuri mumbles, as he watches Viktor until his eyelids grow heavy again, and then he knows no more.

~

Yuuri's dreams are dark, distant things, too obscure for him to remember when he wakes, each image just beyond his grasp. After the third time he opens his eyes to a dark room and lifts his head to look over at Viktor, still in the same position, Yurio threatens to tie his head to the pillow if it will make him sleep.

Yuuri doesn't lift his head after that, but he does keep looking over, unable to fall into deep sleep. By the time morning finally arrives, Yuuri has barely slept, his eyes sore from his constant worry.

"Don't go to work," Yurio says, not looking away from the laptop screen. "It's been quiet all night, but we still don't know if Viktor was followed or if anyone is watching the house. I don't want to give them any chance to catch any of us."

Yuuri wonders vaguely what his browser history might look like -- if it didn't automatically flush itself, anyway -- then dutifully reaches for his phone to call his boss. With everything going on, he doesn't think he should go to work at all before his flight. He had already turned in his two weeks' notice, and it was only a few missed days, anyway.

His boss isn't really pleased, which makes Yuuri wince. Damn his guilty conscious. "I thought your last day was going to be Sunday, Katsuki."

"I know, sir. I'm very sorry," Yuuri says quietly, his eyes on the gentle rise and fall of Viktor's chest. "A personal matter came up."

"Well, I guess it can't be helped. You can come in on Monday for your paycheck," Kawahira grumbles, and Yuuri ends the call after another round of profusely apologizing.

"You Japanese say you're sorry too much," mutters Yurio, and Yuuri rolls his eyes.

"Sorry about that," he says flatly, making Yurio snort. After a moment, Yuuri starts flipping through his apps and emails, searching for updates. He hasn't heard anything else about the Denten Robotics plant in Fukuoka -- likely the information has been hushed up. So far, none of his underground sources have dug up the real reason. He wonders if it has anything to do with Viktor. "How much of the language do you know, anyway?"

Yurio looks up from the screen, considering the question. "Enough to say I don't want onion in my _katsudon_ , but not enough to follow those ridiculous talk shows."

He has no missed messages on WhatsApp. "Those are mostly nonsense anyway."

"What about you?" Yurio asks, raising an eyebrow, then switches to his native language. " _How much Russian do you know?_ "

" _Enough,_ " Yuuri grumbles, sighing when Yurio starts laughing. "I'm bad at writing it, my pronunciation is awful, and I still need to look things up sometimes. Stop laughing."

" _Your pronunciation is shit,_ " Yurio chortles. "How'd you learn it, anyway?"

"I studied it in college. I took some online courses after I met Viktor." His gaze flicks over to Viktor's motionless body, his lips twitching downward. "After I saw his circle."

Yurio is quiet for a long moment. Seven years ago, he would have been eleven; Yuuri wonders when he was taken into the program. "I can't believe he let you get away with seeing that. I can't believe he was even activating it in a news studio."

With a small shrug, Yuuri sets his phone down. "He was probably spying on the people in the building." The thought makes him pause. "Shouldn't he have heard me coming, then?"

He and Yurio blink at each other. "I told you, he's an idiot," Yurio says with a heavy sigh, sending a dark look at Viktor, who is unable to defend himself from the usual scorn.

Yuuri's lips twitch upward. "Well, the circle vanished as soon as I opened the door, and I did barge in." He shakes his head, then stands and stretches, before looking over at the ladder. "Um... is anyone near the house? I should clean up and make breakfast..."

Yurio follows his gaze, scowling. "No. I'll go up with you. If anything happens, I'm shoving you back down here."

Yuuri considers this for a moment. "What if I'm naked?"

"What -- ew! That's disgusting!" Yurio's expression makes Yuuri laugh, and after one last look at Viktor's face -- a bit more relaxed, some color returned to his cheeks -- Yuuri goes upstairs.

~*~

After a hurried shower and breakfast, Yurio kicks Yuuri back downstairs and says he's going to keep a lookout on the street. Yuuri eyes his high-grade binoculars, wondering what he could possibly use them for with advanced eyesight, then gives in and goes to curl up on Viktor's cot again, too tired to argue. Even though he fixed Viktor breakfast, Viktor hasn't woken at all since last night, and as every hour ticks by with no sign of waking, Yuuri feels more and more anxious.

He doesn't want to sit around all day and do nothing, so for a while, Yuuri pokes around his forums, sending a few of his contacts private messages to let them know he will be unavailable for a while. After he leaves, Yuuri doesn't plan on drawing any more attention to himself than he absolutely has to -- which means cutting off his illegal online activity for the meantime. Phichit will be more than happy to show him around Thailand, at least, until Viktor sets up his next destination.

When the words on a very long post about the possibility of multiple realities begin to bleed together, Yuuri realizes he is nodding off and shakes himself, then sets the laptop aside. He glances at Viktor, who is still asleep, and aches for a moment, wishing he could help more. Yurio is upstairs watching the street, and Yuuri wishes he could go out and... _do something,_ but they have all the supplies they need, and he isn't allowed to leave the house.

He might be going a little stir-crazy.

After a moment, Yuuri slides off the cot and goes to sit next to Viktor, taking his limp hand and gazing down at it. Viktor could crush his bones, if he squeezed too hard, but not once has Viktor ever been less than amazingly gentle. His control is incredible, from years and years of training, and yet... he was still hurt, and badly. Yuuri can imagine far too many awful situations where a gun might come into play, and surely Viktor should see a doctor, get a transfusion...

No. Yurio said he would be okay. Yuuri has to believe that.

"Wake up for me," Yuuri whispers, lifting Viktor's hand to kiss his palm. His heart breaks a little when Viktor does not respond.

After a moment, Yuuri lowers their hands. He has never been this emotionally close to somebody before, and after the soft kisses Viktor gave him forever ago, he can only hope that Viktor feels this same gentle warmth. He wonders if Viktor has ever been with anybody, but he doubts it; for some reason, Viktor doesn't seem the type of person to invite lovers, even with other soldiers or strangers. Not with the level of control the government has over his life.

Yuuri wonders if he could be that person for Viktor, and if Viktor could be that person for him. Somehow, he can't imagine that, either -- but he knows that he does not want to lose Viktor. Viktor has become somebody he wants to hold onto, in a world where life is ephemeral and danger exists in every corner.

More so for Viktor than anybody else.

Yuuri shifts to a more comfortable position and crosses his arms over the side of the cot. Mid-movement, his eyes catch on the bloody handprint still on his wall. He stills, staring at it for a long moment.

Viktor might seem like some sort of super-human, but he bleeds and cries and smiles just as much as any normal person. Yet Yuuri fears for him, because someday Viktor might get hurt badly enough that he cannot simply walk away. Yuuri wishes he was strong enough to protect Viktor.

He wishes he could change the world, so that Viktor had never been turned into a Circle in the first place.

With a small sigh, Yuuri rests his head on his arms, shifting his gaze to his and Viktor's hands.

"Please wake up," he whispers, closing his eyes and holding on.

~*~

Yuuri wakes slowly. On one side, he feels the familiar warmth of Makkachin, cuddled up against his hip. Beneath his cheek is another warmth, and every so often, something runs through his hair, gentle and comforting. Yuuri makes a soft noise, not wanting to wake. He could stay here in this haven forever, given the chance.

"What a face you're making," murmurs a familiar voice. "It's time to rise, sleeping beauty."

"Don't want to," Yuuri whispers, then goes stiff with shock. He turns onto his back and looks up into Viktor's smiling face. Viktor is sitting up against the wall, shirtless with a small bandage over his side, while Yuuri is lying on the cot, his head pillowed by Viktor's leg. Yuuri inhales and sits up, disturbing Makkachin. "Viktor! You're okay!"

"As much as I --" Viktor starts to say, but that is all he gets out before Yuuri throws his arms around him and hugs him tightly. For a moment, Viktor doesn't move, until he softens and wraps his arms around Yuuri, hugging him close. "Ah! Yuuri..."

"Yurio said you got shot," Yuuri tells him, muffled by Viktor's shoulder. "There... there was so much blood."

"Hey, I'm okay," Viktor assures him, gently nudging Yuuri back, not minding as Yuuri kneels over his legs. "See? Look." He carefully peels the bandage off his skin, revealing a pink bullet wound, already closed with the stitches removed. If Yuuri looks closely, he can see the skin slowly knitting together, which disturbs him. After a moment, Viktor puts the bandage back over the wound.

"But... Yurio took a bullet out of you," Yuuri says blankly, looking up at Viktor.

"Advanced healing. I'm fine, Yuuri. You found me... so I'm fine now," Viktor says, lifting a hand to Yuuri's face and wiping at his cheek with a thumb. Yuuri realizes abruptly that he is crying, and he quickly wipes his face, embarrassed that Viktor caught him. Viktor has a faint tension in his mien, and he still looks pale. "It hurts, but everything is healing."

"It hurts?" Yuuri scrambles to sit beside Viktor, horrified when he remembers how he latched onto Viktor immediately. "Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry."

Viktor lifts a finger to Yuuri's lips, shaking his head. "No, you didn't."

Yuuri flushes a little, then reaches up to take Viktor's hand, lowering it between them. "Is Yurio still upstairs?"

"Mmhmm. He's keeping a lookout. I told him that nobody had followed me, but he insisted." Viktor sighs and leans his head back, closing his eyes with a faint grimace. "Tell me... about what happened while I was gone. I could use a distraction right now."

At Yuuri's side, Makkachin has curled up again, leaning into Viktor's warmth at the same time. Yuuri shifts to sit cross-legged beside her, facing Viktor, not quite believing that he is awake. He wonders how long Viktor had been sitting there with Yuuri sleeping beside him. Long enough, at least, to shower and change, given the towel sitting beside him and the clean pants that Viktor is wearing.

Viktor's eyes are distant, a haze of pain over the vivid blue. Yuuri wants to take that from him.

"I showed Yurio some anime about these kids who can turn into weapons and take souls, like grim reapers. It was pretty good in its day, but Yurio _loved_ it," Yuuri tells Viktor with a small smile. "He kept talking about what kind of weapon he would be, and who his partner would be, and how he would better than the kids in the show."

"Really? I didn't think he'd be into that," laughs Viktor softly, something in his posture relaxing.

"We watched a lot of shows, but he liked that one the best," Yuuri admits. "That one, and another one about a girl who joins a super elite school and decides to fight the student body head with a strange weapon her father created. He kept saying it was 'badass.'" He knows Yurio is listening, but so far the teenager hasn't stormed downstairs to deny any of it.

He probably will later.

"I should like to watch these sometime," says Viktor, a genuine smile touching his lips.

"I'll show you, if you want," Yuuri offers quietly. He shifts to sit beside Viktor against the wall, careful of his injury, blushing a little as he remembers how he threw himself at Viktor. "I quit my job. Yurio didn't want me to go to work for my last couple days, so I just called in. I just have to go in on Monday and pick up my check."

Viktor is quiet beside him for a moment. "Admittedly, I'm glad for that. With all that is going on, it's safer if you just stay home for the meantime."

"That's what Yurio thinks. We have supplies if you think I shouldn't go to the store. We're running out of meat and eggs, but..."

Viktor sighs softly. "I'll think about it. I'm positive no one followed me, but we shouldn't take unnecessary risks." They sit together quietly, and Yuuri listens to Makkachin's soft snuffles and Viktor's breathing, lulled by his warmth.

After a little while, Yuuri becomes aware of another warmth, and he looks down to see long fingers sliding along the inside of his wrist. He breathes in slowly, and Viktor takes that as permission to entwine their fingers, resting their hands together on Yuuri's leg. After a beat, Yuuri lets himself lean into Viktor's side, minutely squeezing his hand.

"It's going to be strange to leave Hasetsu," Yuuri says into the quiet, swallowing. Viktor's hand is firm and hot. "I went to college in America, but... I always knew I'd come back. I don't think I can come back from this."

"Not for a long time, in all probability," Viktor sighs. "Too much can go wrong. I wish it didn't have to be this way, Yuuri... but I imagine you've considered the consequences for a long time."

"I have," Yuuri agrees softly. "I've thought about it for years. What would happen if I got arrested, or if they found my files. I hate that it could bring shame to my family... they don't deserve to have the reputation of having a traitor son."

Viktor's fingers tighten on his hand. "The brand of traitor is relative to idiotic laws that should never have been passed. You are trying to save people."

"We both are," Yuuri says, closing his eyes.

"Then we are both traitors," Viktor tells him, exhaling. "I will still keep fighting. Will you?"

Yuuri opens his eyes and abruptly turns to face Viktor, his eyes glittering fiercely. "Of course. I'm not giving up now. I worry for my family, but I will never stop fighting for what is right. When those people are defeated and the Circles are free, when _you_ are free, then I will stop fighting. Until then... I'm with you. Every step of the way."

Viktor stares at him in surprise, and after a long moment, his gaze softens. "I'm glad, Yuuri." He squeezes Yuuri's hand again. "Why don't you tell me about your city? I'd love to hear more about it. I haven't seen much of it for myself."

Yuuri raises an eyebrow at the wry little grin on Viktor's face, snorting. "Hard to do that when you're on the run from the local government," he replies, earning a laugh. "Hm... did I tell you that my family runs a hot springs resort?"

"No, you didn't," Viktor replies, settling down to listen, and so Yuuri tells him. All about the hot springs resorts and how they have slowly closed, one by one, until his parents' inn remained the last one open. How Yuuri grew up cleaning inn rooms and fishing leaves out of the springs. How his father spends the winters trying out new recipes, though Yuuri's favorite has always remained _katsudon_.

He tells Viktor about Hasetsu pottery and how it's famous all over the country, and how there are still old masters of the art who live and work nearby. How his family owns many sets of dishware, and how they have foisted sets onto Yuuri and his sister Mari for years. There is an entire room deep in Yuutopia full of dish sets that Yuuri will never use, but he knows he could never bring himself to throw them away, either.

He tells Viktor about the beach. How Yuuri would take long walks with Vicchan, his dog, up until he left Japan for college. Detroit had sat on a waterfront, but it was a lake instead of the ocean, and it hadn't been the same. The sound of seagulls has always called Yuuri home, and he misses those days of windswept hair, gray skies, and the feeling of the world lasting forever in a single moment.

Viktor listens quietly, and as Yuuri's stories grow more animated, the pain in his eyes eases away, until he is laughing at Yuuri's reenactment of his mother's reaction to a monkey trying to sneak into the hot spring one winter.

"Your poor mother," Viktor chuckles, wiping a tear from his eye. "At least it didn't hurt any of you."

"They're mostly just pests," Yuuri sighs, smiling a little to see Viktor more relaxed now. "There's a famous city that built _onsen_ just for the monkeys, because they kept sitting in the patrons' springs and dirtying them."

"Wow."

An easy quiet settles. Viktor has closed his eyes, resting with one hand loosely splayed across his stomach, and Yuuri peeks at him, admiring the long line of his neck, his physique. He has always known that Viktor is an attractive man, and though Yuuri has given little thought to his own preferences from years of avoiding human contact, he knows that Viktor matches nearly all of his tastes.

Swiftly he shakes his head, pushing the thought away. It would be inappropriate.

"You're thinking too hard," Viktor says without opening his eyes, and Yuuri starts, turning to see Viktor trying to fight a smile.

"Stop reading my mind," Yuuri retorts, and Viktor's smile blossoms into something mischievous. Yuuri watches him for a moment, idly thinking that he is going to miss this.

"If you two are done flirting, I'm hungry. Come up, it's all clear," Yurio calls down from the ladder, and both Viktor and Yuuri jump, then blink at each other. Viktor's lips twitch, and Yuuri laughs shakily, letting go of Viktor's hand and walking over to the ladder. Viktor stands with a grimace and follows him, resting a hand beside the ladder as Yuuri reaches up for a higher rung.

The warmth of his breath hits the back of Yuuri's neck, and Yuuri quickly climbs up, ignoring Yurio when he rolls his eyes at him.

Dinner is made and consumed quickly, packaged ramen with eggs and the last of the green onions. Yurio slurps the noodles from his perch at one of the windows, his eyes glowing as he stares out at the road through the smallest opening in the curtains. Viktor eats with his enhanced senses as well, and Yuuri doesn't speak, the tension leaving him lost in his own thoughts.

Afterwards, Yuuri disappears into his room to gather some clothes and his electronics. Viktor lingers in the doorway, watching as Yuuri searches in his closet. At last he finds the sleeping bag he stashed away years ago, setting it on the bed and going to gather a few clothes.

"I'm sorry for this, Yuuri," Viktor says quietly, his arms crossed over his chest. "It's just not safe to stay upstairs right now."

"I understand," Yuuri replies, just as quiet. "You're certain that they didn't follow you?"

Viktor shakes his head slowly, glancing at the covered windows. "I subdued anybody who could follow before I left F... the location." He glances briefly at Yuuri, walking over to the dresser to stand beside him as Yuuri fishes out shirts and pants. Yuuri stands still for a moment, distracted by Viktor's slip, thinking immediately of the news report he saw on the explosion in Fukuoka.

"The plant in Fukuoka," he breathes, and Viktor sighs heavily.

"I was afraid you'd figure that out," he grumbles, and then holds up a hand when Yuuri turns to him. "No, Yuuri, please don't ask me for details. I can't tell you. If you get captured and questioned, I want you to have as much plausible deniability as possible. Please understand."

Yuuri purses his lips, then sets his clothes down and pushes Viktor's hand aside. "Fine. I could help, though. Spread misinformation, hack the news sites if you need it, or even get into the military channels..."

"No, I'd rather keep you safe from all that," Viktor replies, and Yuuri must show too much of his frustration, because Viktor spares a smile for him, picking up the clothing Yuuri abandoned and setting it in his hands. "You must know you are not the only hacker I have contact with. I have a friend who has been monitoring the Japanese military channels as well as the Russian ones. She has been sending relevant information to Yuri through your phone, since I lost my phone during my trip."

Yuuri doesn't know what to think of that. He knows full well that other hackers and activists are working with Viktor and Yurio, but he wants to think that his strengths could be just as useful as theirs. "I have contacts, too," Yuuri finally mutters, and Viktor's expression softens to something sweeter.

"I know you do. You have done more than enough already, Yuuri. Right now we need to be careful, and... I don't want to risk your safety," Viktor admits quietly. Yuuri's face floods with heat, and he turns away to continue packing.

After a few minutes, Yuuri realizes that his hands are full of shirts, and that Viktor is still shirtless. He isn't sure how many clothes Viktor has, though he doesn't think any of them are too clean. He hasn't done laundry for anybody ever since Viktor came back.

Without looking at Viktor, Yuuri holds out one of his shirts. "If you want, you can borrow this," Yuuri mumbles. He can almost hear Viktor's surprise in the silence, before long fingers brush against his and take the clothing.

"Thank you, Yuuri," Viktor says quietly. Yuuri hears soft rustling, and he dares a glance over, watching as Viktor pulls the shirt on. Immediately the problem is obvious; the shirt is too tight across Viktor's chest, and Yuuri groans in embarrassment, covering his face.

"Sorry! I didn't think..."

Viktor laughs, and when Yuuri dares to look at him, he is smiling, the melancholy from earlier gone. With an easy motion, Viktor hooks the shirt at the hem and pulls it over his head, turning it back around and folding it, before setting it on the edge of Yuuri's bed.

"I'm not surprised, really. I did try on one of your shirts earlier," Viktor admits, glancing at Yuuri sheepishly. "Mine were dirty. Yours don't really fit, though."

Yuuri's face heats up unexpectedly, and he has to look away, twisting his fingers into the clothes in his bag. "Sorry," he mutters, waving a hand in the direction of Viktor's sculpted torso. "I'm not, uh..." He can't finish his words, biting down on his lip. 

He cannot help his attraction. Viktor did kiss him once, but Yuuri doesn't know what it means, nor does he really feel the need to define it. Despite his reluctance, Yuuri wants to do it again -- and maybe more. He might never see Viktor again. They might get arrested or even killed, whether by one of the world governments or by Viktor's enemies, and Yuuri is afraid that if he doesn't take this chance, he might never get another one.

He cannot say it, though. He doesn't want to force his feelings onto Viktor, who doesn't deserve it.

After a brief moment, Viktor's fingers touch his cheek. Yuuri jumps slightly and turns to look at him. "Don't bite," Viktor says softly. For once, Viktor looks unsure of himself, but he doesn't let go of Yuuri, drawing his thumb along the frame of Yuuri's face.

Yuuri doesn't move. He knows Viktor can hear his heart beating fast, but he isn't afraid. Whatever Viktor sees in his expression, it soothes some of the worry in his blue eyes, softening them with wonder.

Yuuri gravitates closer to him, and Viktor lets him into his personal space with a soft noise. With shaking fingers, Yuuri lifts a hand to touch Viktor's face, stroking his fingers down over warm skin and reveling in the feeling, the brush of Viktor's eyelashes against his knuckle. Viktor inhales slowly, a hitch in the noise, and Yuuri can't help but lean in, touching their foreheads together.

After a moment, he drops his hand to Viktor's chest. Viktor's heart is beating just as fast as his, pumping blood through a green circle, and Yuuri closes his eyes, letting himself feel the proof that Viktor is real.

"Viktor," Yuuri whispers, then decides he doesn't want to hesitate any longer. He leans in and presses his lips to Viktor's mouth, seeking that simple connection. For Yuuri, it quickly turns heated, as he is unable to stop his longing and need from seeping into the kiss, but after a few long moments that leave him dizzy, Yuuri slowly realizes that Viktor remains gentle with him, holding himself very still in front of Yuuri.

Yuuri pulls away a few inches, opening his eyes to look up at Viktor, then down, knowing that his face is pink. "Bad idea...?"

Viktor inhales softly, then reaches up to cup Yuuri's face, tilting his head up to meet his eyes. "No, it is a very _good_ idea, Yuuri. I'm sorry. I haven't..." He grimaces, and Yuuri relaxes a little, relieved that Viktor is not rejecting him. He reaches up to take Viktor's wrists in his hands but doesn't push him away, merely watching him, waiting for Viktor to explain.

Finally Viktor exhales and wraps one arm around Yuuri's shoulders, pulling him closer and touching his lips to Yuuri's temple. The warmth of his body burns his skin like a brand, and Yuuri leans into him, hesitantly settling his hands on Viktor's bare back.

"I can't hurt you," Viktor confides into the quiet, his voice faintly choked. "I have not been with... anybody. Not like that. The changes they put me through, it... it took away everything. Aggression, emotion, lust. Other Circles don't have the problem I do, but... I have felt nothing for anybody for all of my life, until I met you. Now I am afraid that if we do anything, I could hurt you. If I lost control..."

Yuuri's heart breaks in his chest, and Viktor must hear it, because he pulls away to look at Yuuri worriedly. Yuuri shakes his head and leans up to kiss Viktor's forehead, in the same spot that Viktor kissed him in the bath weeks ago.

"I trust you," Yuuri whispers, leaning back to look at him, and Viktor's breath hitches, something vulnerable wavering in his gaze.

"I'm not human anymore, though."

Yuuri shakes his head, then takes Viktor's hands in his own. One, he presses to Viktor's chest, beneath his own, and the other, he holds against his own chest, Viktor's palm pressing over his heart. He doesn't say anything for several moments, as their hearts beat together. Soon, they are beating in sync, the same heartbeat, the same emotion.

"Do you feel it?" Yuuri asks into the quiet, and Viktor nods once, something sparkling in his eyes before he wraps his arms around Yuuri again and pulls him close. Yuuri feels something damp against his cheek, but he says nothing, giving Viktor the time he needs.

Between them, their hearts continue to beat as one.

~*~

For four days, Yuuri stays downstairs, while Yurio and Viktor keep a sharp watch on the outside world. He spends most of the time on his laptop, clearing out his secret folders onto hard drives and backing everything up. The hard drives will be packed away in his suitcase when he flies to Thailand, but the laptop needs to be clean in case someone searches it in customs.

No one has come by the house again. None of them are ever asleep at the same time; when Yuuri sleeps, Viktor always keeps watch, and during the rare moments that Viktor sleeps, Yurio stays upstairs, weapons in hand as he listens for anyone approaching the house. Everything has been silent, though. Nothing on the news about Viktor, nor any hint that the STF is planning a raid. Not even Viktor's hacker friend, who Yuuri thinks is named Mila, has given them any updates.

It feels like the calm before the storm. Yuuri is doing his best to distract himself with his work online. Sara has received the last of his journals, and when Yuuri is safely in another country and cannot be tracked, she and her brother will begin releasing everything.

First, though, Yuuri, Viktor, and Yurio need to be out of the country.

Even though Viktor and Yurio will leave Hasetsu on February the seventeenth, just days away, Yuuri will actually leave the country before them. Viktor hasn't given him many details, but Yurio has let slip that they plan to meet up with a contact in another city in Japan, where they will board a ship that will take them to China. Yurio has been talking about his friend Otabek, showing signs of excitement, so Yuuri suspects they will travel to Kazakhstan to meet up with him, before they head to Europe to deliver the package that Viktor stole.

Past that, Yuuri has no idea what Viktor and Yurio will do, nor who is watching, waiting for Viktor to slip up and reveal his presence. It unnerves him, because Viktor has mentioned his enemies before, and Yuuri has always understood 'enemies' to mean the Russian and Japanese governments, likely including China, America, and the European Union. 

Yuuri will spend several days in Thailand, visiting with Phichit and pretending that everything is fine, and then Viktor will contact him with new instructions on where to go next, as well as forged papers for getting out of the country under a new name.

So Viktor says. Yuuri still has no idea if any of it will work. He's terrified of the future he can't predict.

Yurio drops beside him on the sofa one night, looking harried. Viktor is out in the woods for once, erasing any evidence of his injuries, or so he explained to Yuuri before he left.

"Just to be on the safe side," Viktor said, waving a hand vaguely at the hallway. Yuuri hadn't been able to convince him to stay. He suspects that Viktor is arranging for transportation in a rather illegal manner and doesn't want to implicate Yuuri in it, so he said nothing.

"It hasn't been back," Yurio mutters to him, keeping an eye on the back door. Yuuri gives him a questioning glance, and Yurio nods his head to the street.

Abruptly, Yuuri remembers the car that had been sitting outside his house last week. "That's good, right? It was probably just somebody walking in the woods." he asks softly, following Yurio's lead. Better not to worry Viktor if he happens to be listening. He doesn't want Yurio to worry about him, either.

"I guess." Yurio stares down at his hands for a long moment, then looks up to meet Yuuri's eyes. "Be careful after we leave. Viktor will probably give you a big lecture but... just be careful." 

Yuuri nods minutely, the weight of the conversation driving out all other thoughts. What else can he do? All of his and Viktor's contacts have been silent. Somehow, nobody has wised up to the fact that Yuuri is hiding two fugitives and actively working to reveal national secrets. Other than the STF raid, nothing bad has happened to Yuuri. He should be safe to leave.

Why then does it feel like everything is about to go to hell?

~*~

Viktor and Yurio leave early in the morning on Sunday, a few hours before dawn, when clouds have taken over the stars and moon. Yuuri checks outside and sees no one, then quietly sneaks out his backdoor to the hidden door to the bunker, pulling aside the bush and unlocking the door.

Viktor and Yurio step outside, dressed up in their heavy winter clothes again, masks and hats hiding their pale hair. The sight of them makes the hairs on the back of Yuuri's neck stand up for a moment; they look so much like the STF soldiers that he has to shake himself. Makkachin is silent at Viktor's side, but she perks up when she sees Yuuri, wagging her tail, and his heart aches to see her. He doesn't want Makkachin to leave, either; if he could, he would keep Makkachin with him, but it will be safer for her to stay with Viktor.

Yuuri kneels down to hug Makkachin, and she sets her cold paws on his shoulders, licking his cheek. "Take care of them, Makkachin," Yuuri whispers into her fur, then reluctantly lets her go.

When he stands up, Yuuri finds Yurio glaring at him, hands shoved deep in his pockets. "We can take care of ourselves, katsudon. You should take care of yourself! It's dangerous for you! You should..." Yurio bites his bottom lip, bowing his head. The hat Yuuri gave him is covering his hair; Yuuri never asked for it back, and it lightens his heart a little to see it on Yurio's head. "Just -- just be safe. Idiot. I'm going to get the bike." Then Yurio is gone, taking Makkachin with him, stomping through the snow without any care for the mess he makes.

Yuuri watches him disappear into the shadows of the trees, his heart aching. Somehow, Yurio became his friend, and he hopes that Yurio lives through this. Yurio deserves freedom from the Circle program just as much as Viktor does. Moments after Yurio's tall form vanishes beyond the trees, it begins to snow, the soft flakes floating down to cover the tracks left behind.

The forecast has promised eight inches of snow. There will be no sign that Viktor and Yurio were ever there.

For a few moments, Viktor and Yuuri stand silently together. Yuuri doesn't know what to say. What should he say to someone who changed his life? To someone who might die? To the person who opened his heart and gave him something more to believe in than simply justice and what is right? Viktor might die. Yuuri might die. If he isn't caught for his espionage, then he might be taken for his crimes against the world governments, and none of them would suffer him to live. Either of them.

He might never see Viktor again.

"You're thinking too loudly again," Viktor says softly, and Yuuri starts, whirling to face him. His eyes are hot with tears; he feels the uncertainty of Viktor's future keenly. "You should worry more about yourself, Yuuri. I will be okay."

"Viktor," Yuuri says, then cannot say anything else. What can he say? A promise to survive, when the future seems so bleak?

"I won't stop worrying about you," he whispers, meeting Viktor's bright gaze. "I'll always think of you. I'll wait for you. When this is all over... I'll find you. I'll search the whole world if I have to."

Viktor stares at him for a long moment, his mouth falling open. Yuuri bears the weight of his gaze with only a blush, his determination making him strong enough that he doesn't look away. Then Viktor steps forward, and Yuuri finds himself enveloped in Viktor's arms, surrounded by the scents of snow and _Viktor_.

"Please stay safe," Viktor whispers into his hair, his arms tight around Yuuri. Almost too tight, and yet Viktor is _still_ holding himself back, to protect Yuuri. He breathes in deeply, his chest expanding under Viktor's arms, and hugs him back just as tightly, tears prickling in his eyes.

"I lov..."

But Viktor leans back suddenly and catches Yuuri's face in his hands, looking at him seriously. "No, Yuuri. Don't give me your heart like that, like it's the last thing we will say to each other. I want to hear it later, in the future where we both survive. Save it for me. I can't take this from you, too."

Yuuri stares up at him with wide eyes, then grabs Viktor's hands, squeezing tightly. "No, I'm going to tell you now. So you never forget it, no matter where you go, no matter who hurts you. I love you. I love you, Viktor."

Then Yuuri cannot say anything more, because Viktor is kissing him. Yuuri melts into the warmth against his lips, closing his eyes as tears spill down his cheeks over the rough fabric of Viktor's gloves. Through layers of cloth and metal and skin, their hearts beat as one for one more moment, one more blissful moment that Yuuri holds onto for as long as he can.

"I'll find my way back to you," Viktor whispers into his mouth, and Yuuri isn't sure if the wetness on their cheeks is from only his tears. He never finds out.

Then Viktor lets him go, and when Yuuri opens his eyes, Viktor is gone, the footprints in the snow the only sign that he was ever there.

Yuuri closes the door to the bunker and heads back inside, his heart numb. When he gets to his room, he sets up his equipment in silence, tuning it to the proper frequency, then sends the message for the few allies they still have. Somewhere, Alces is listening.

" _Vorona i vorobey paryat. Rytsar' zhdet._ "

~*~

After Viktor and Yurio leave, the silence in the house is deafening.

For six weeks, Yuuri's home had become lively and interesting, and before he knew what was happening, he had found a strange little family to care for. The absence of the three who made everything in Yuuri's life worthwhile is staggering in how strongly it affects him.

So Yuuri does his best not to let it affect him.

Instead of moping, Yuuri spends Sunday packing and closing up the house. He starts with the kitchen, emptying the fridge and pantry of perishables, save those he plans on giving to his family before he leaves and the food he will eat before Wednesday. That doesn't take up nearly enough of the day, so Yuuri focuses his attention next on cleaning -- which doesn't take long, either, since Yurio helped sweep and straighten everything before he left.

He can't turn off the utilities until the next day, and all he needs to do for his job is pick up his paycheck. By the time evening sets in, Yuuri has sorted through all of his books and papers, burned everything that could possibly be seen as suspicious, and wiped the whole house down with rubbing alcohol, leaving a faintly chemical smell, but hopefully removing all of Viktor's and Yurio's fingerprints.

That leaves packing. The alternative is sitting in the bunker and thinking about Viktor being as far away as Fukuoka, which Yuuri is determined not to do.

He packs. Shirts and pants that are easy to clean. No fancy clothes, under the impression that he is merely visiting a friend. Underwear, socks, an extra pair of shoes. Every charger and cord he could possibly need for his electronics. A fantasy book about wizards, in case he gets bored. Toiletries.

He leaves the plane tickets on the desk and sets the bag on the floor. Then he thinks better of it and carries the bag to the hallway, unveiling the secret hatch to the basement, then dropping his suitcase carefully to the floor below.

If someone really was watching his house the other day, then Yuuri doesn't want to sleep upstairs, in case they decide to investigate further. He doesn't want to be upstairs if the Strike Task Force invades his home again, either. He will feel safer, at least a little bit, if he continues to sleep on Viktor's cot.

(Viktor won't be there with him. Yuuri has to remember that. Viktor is gone, and Yuuri may never see him again.)

Viktor and Yurio had helped him carry his safe downstairs before they had left, and Yuuri stores anything that he doesn't want the government to get into inside the safe, including a letter to his family. If Yuuri gets caught, he wants them to understand why he did what he did, to save them the shame. Hopefully it will keep authorities from arresting them, as well.

By the time Yuuri finishes, he is exhausted. After a cup of instant ramen and a quick shower, Yuuri falls asleep on Viktor's cot. His sleep is troubled, fraught with dreams of gunfire and glowing green eyes, yet somehow he manages to sleep past ten.

"Shit," Yuuri curses when he sees the time, flying off the cot. He needs to go to Kawahira Electronics and pick up his check, as well as stop by the utilities place to get everything turned off by Wednesday.

Twenty minutes later, Yuuri is jogging down the street to his bus stop, holding his phone to his ear as he waits for an answer. A moment later, his sister picks up.

"Ah, Mari-neechan?" 

"Yuuri, what's up?"

"I'm going to stop by tomorrow and bring some of my extra food over, before my trip. Is that okay?" Yuuri asks, slowing as he reaches the bottom of his hill. Traffic is typical for Monday morning, and the normality of the world around him feels strange after spending days locked in his basement. Yuuri keeps looking around for signs of the STF or of suspicious people watching him, but nothing seems out of the ordinary.

"Sure, that's fine. Mom wants you to stay for dinner, too."

"Okay," Yuuri agrees, though hesitantly. He can probably leave early if he eats fast. One last chance to see his family before everything changes.

The rest of his morning progresses just as Yuuri planned. He picks up his check, returns all the DVDs he borrowed, and arranges a scheduled turn off for his utilities. After a stop at the bank, Yuuri's last order of the day is to pick up food from the closest _konbini_ and take it home, so that he doesn't have to cook again.

Yuuri returns home without a single problem. No one stops him and no one follows him. Still, he doesn't linger upstairs, taking his lunch down to the bunker and locking the closet entrance before curling up with his laptop. WhatsApp has been silent since Viktor and Yurio left, and Yuuri tries not to think too hard about it. Viktor had said he would wait to get a new cell phone, and that Yuuri should send all of his updates to Mila until Viktor contacts him in Thailand.

Yuuri wishes he had an update. He hates not knowing where Viktor is.

As Yuuri crumples up the wrapper to his sandwich, he hears a dull thud upstairs, and every nerve in his body freezes. 

A voice shouts something, muffled from outside, and Yuuri covers his mouth as nausea rolls around in his stomach, unsettling the lunch he just ate. The pounding continues, somebody knocking at his door, but Yuuri doesn't dare move to answer.

Moments later, he hears a heavy crack, and heavy booted feet storm into his house. Yuuri scrambles up and flips off the light, then shrinks against the wall while he listens, his eyes wide with dread.

The Strike Task Force is raiding his house.

"No sign of the occupant," says a deep voice from the hallway, just above Yuuri's head. 

"Search as normal. Describe the occupant, lieutenant," orders another voice, gruff and even deeper.

"Yes, sir. Single family home. Occupant, Katsuki Yuuri, twenty-six years old. Employer, Kawahira Electronics. Family, father, mother, sister. No known criminal activities. Suspected of contact with foreign nationals, but nothing confirmed. Previous raid was on January 31, 2019, with nothing suspicious found."

"Acknowledged. Continue the search. Katsuki may be outside. Send three men into the woods to search for him."

"Yes, sir."

Yuuri stares up at the hatch to the hallway, keeping his hands over his mouth. Even under his panic, he is processing the information revealed by the men raiding his home, his mind whirling. They don't have any proof that he's been colluding with Viktor and Yurio. Given the number of times Yurio has gone out in public with him, Yuuri finds that surprising.

A relief, as well.

He can only sit in silence as the bangs and thuds continue to wrack his house. They must be tearing everything apart, the same as last time. Every time the heavy thuds of boots near the closet door, Yuuri squeezes his eyes shut, sure that they will find his hidden bunker and catch him.

They don't, not even when they rip open the closet and search through it. More than anything, Yuuri is glad that he brought all of his secrets downstairs. The STF hadn't found his safe or thought anything about his large number of electronics, but Yuuri can feel the guilt of his secret activities surrounding him, just as the shadows keep him hidden.

He hopes that the people raiding him are not the same people as last time, and that they don't notice how much of the equipment is missing.

At last, at long last, the bangs and crashes and thuds stop, and the heavy boots walk back to the front of the house.

"Report."

"Nothing suspicious found, sir. No cell phone or computer present. All the books are either fiction or about computer engineering. A radio and other electronic devices. A work ID for Kawahira Electronics. A plane ticket found in the bedroom for Wednesday, February 20, to Bangkok, Thailand. Signs of one occupant, no others. Occupant is not present in the house or in the surrounding property. No weapons or illegal substances found. Sir."

"Same as last time, then. If this Katsuki is in touch with any foreign terrorists, he keeps his nose very clean," says the gruff voice. "We're clear. Did you take a picture of the plane ticket?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, then let's go. Someone fix the door."

Yuuri breathes out slowly, sinking down to the floor and covering his face with shaking hands. He doesn't move again until long after he hears car doors slam outside, followed by motors driving away from his house.

Only then does the nausea take over, and Yuuri ends up clutching the rim of the toilet bowl, heaving. After everything has been emptied out, Yuuri curls up on the floor beside the toilet, his eyes closed tightly as he shudders, sickened with terror. What if they come back? What if somebody is still upstairs, waiting?

After an impossibly long time, Yuuri finally drags himself up. He has heard nothing else from upstairs, but Yuuri is still silent as he creeps across the room to turn on the light. Then he hurries over to Viktor's cot and picks up his phone, finding the number that Yurio told him was for Mila and sending a text.

 **Knight** : _I got raided by the STF. I'm safe. They know about my flight though._

He gets no response, and Yuuri hides his face in his knees for a while, trying to think around his panic. If he goes to the airport as normal on Wednesday, the STF might stop him from boarding his plane. Should he buy a ticket from Haneda Airport instead of Fukuoka? It would be a long ride on the Shinkansen, but Yuuri might be safer if he buys the ticket at the airport instead of booking it online.

Viktor left him enough money for it. Yuuri breathes out, relieved that he has a plan. He'll have to text Phichit the new flight details after he gets to Tokyo.

When Yuuri opens his WhatsApp again, his stomach drops out. The message doesn't have a _message delivered_ checkmark, even fifteen minutes after he sent it. Every message Yuuri has sent before has been delivered, so why didn't this one?

Yuuri then notices that Mila had sent him a message earlier that day, but which Yuuri never saw until now.

 **Crane** : _Sorry Knight, have to go radio silent for a few days. I'll text you the new number on Wednesday._

"Shit," Yuuri whispers, dropping the phone at his side. He has no connection to Mila or Viktor now. What should he do? Panic threatens to overwhelm him again, and for a few minutes, Yuuri focuses on not hyperventilating, his chest tight with anxiety and fear.

_No, I can do this. It'll be okay._

He will go to Tokyo like he planned and get a new plane ticket. It's even more crucial that he gets out of the country. Hopefully the STF won't be looking for him at other airports. He shouldn't be on a no-fly list, right?

Shit. He wished Mila could tell him what to do. Yuuri closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and pulls out his laptop. Mila isn't the only hacker, though, and Yuuri needs questions answered. Mila had linked him with a few of the government databases, and Yuuri wastes no time in working his way around the firewalls and protocols, determined to find out if he is truly in danger of being stopped.

Two hours later, Yuuri sags against the wall of his bunker, relieved. As far as he can tell, he isn't on a no-fly list, so he can still get out of the country on Wednesday, if all goes well.

He doesn't dare go upstairs again. Everything he needs is down here, other than dinner, but Yuuri doesn't want to risk seeking out food if it means his life. He ends up curling up on the edge of the cot, closing his eyes tightly. He feels more alone now than ever, and he has no one to turn to, no one that he can trust.

Yuuri wishes Viktor would come back. He is scared of facing this alone.

~*~

Yuuri barely sleeps. Whenever he opens his eyes, his gaze lands on the bloody handprint he left during Viktor's surgery, which he never bothered to clean up. His dreams are dark things, nightmares of the STF breaking into his bunker and dragging him out, of Viktor dying, of every television in the world blaring his face with "WANTED" scrolling across the bottom. After the third bad dream, Yuuri gives up on sleep and goes hunting through his forums, refreshing frequently.

His stomach keeps growling from a whole day without food, and finally Yuuri goes to pour himself a glass of water, sipping it slowly to soothe his stomach. He can eat at his parents' house -- and that thought sends a shiver of dread down his spine. Should he even go see his parents? What if the STF follows him there? What if the STF has already raided them?

Yuuri will never forgive himself if his family gets dragged into his mess.

Maybe he could drop off the food on Wednesday morning, or have Mari come and get it. That might be better. He can protect his family best by staying away from them. First, though... he needs to eat, and there isn't anything left in the bunker. He already finished off the last cup ramen yesterday.

Slowly, Yuuri climbs the ladder, every nerve in his body on edge. He makes sure to close the hatch to the bunker and cover it up, then closes the closet door and goes to his kitchen, turning on only one light.

When Yuuri sees his house, his stomach drops in dismay. The entire house is a wreck. His furniture is pushed out of place, his belongings are strewn everywhere, and some things are even destroyed, cracked into nothing. Yuuri stares at all of it, then swallows and continues to the kitchen, which is in disarray as well, but not as bad as the rest of the house.

Yuuri finds a forgotten container of pickles at the back of his fridge and sighs. He takes out one of the instant rice packets from the box he had packed up for his family and puts it in the microwave, leaning heavily against the counter as he counts down the seconds. Pickles and rice. His life really has fallen apart, if this is all he has to eat.

The plastic container is nice and hot when Yuuri pulls it out of the microwave, and he eats the rice and pickles quickly, not even bothering to put it on a plate. Stomach full, Yuuri sighs and looks around for his trash can, noticing that it has been turned over. 

He wrinkles his nose and sets it upright, leaning down to pick up the trash, when he hears a knock at his door.

Yuuri freezes, horrified. Who would be visiting him at this hour? It's not the hard banging of the STF, but he doesn't know who...

"Excuse me? Katsuki-san, are you home?" calls a familiar voice, and Yuuri breathes out slowly with trembling relief, recognizing the visitor.

He presses a hand to his chest to calm his thudding heart. "Just a minute," Yuuri answers, hurriedly tossing his empty container away before leaving the kitchen, heading down the hall.

Before he reaches for the door, Yuuri hesitates, a sense of foreboding touching his mind. Why would this person be visiting him so early? On a work day, too? Briefly he debates not answering, but he has already shown that he is home. With a small grimace, Yuuri opens the door, a small smile pasted on his face.

It dies quickly at the sight that greets him. His doctor stands on his step as expected, and behind him are several tall men clad in heavy gear, helmets obscuring any identifying features. Most of them are holding heavy military-grade guns -- soldiers, though not any branch of the military that Yuuri recognizes. They definitely are not the STF. Yuuri freezes, his fingers falling limp on the door handle.

"Muramoto- _sensei_?"

Muramoto- _sensei_ returns his smile kindly. "We won't be long, Katsuki-kun. Come now, don't be rude, invite us in."

Yuuri slams the door in his face -- but it's not enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think (*´♡`*)


	9. drifting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you so much for the amazing response! I hope you enjoy this chapter, too! It's one of my favorites~
> 
> Thank you to @moonbelowsea for betaing!

Viktor Nikiforov sighs as he waits outside a convenience store in Miyazaki, Japan, contacts in his eyes and a cap pulled over his hair. The port is near an American military airbase, so his Western features aren't that odd. Viktor is tense anyway, his hand staying close to the package tucked inside his vest. A few Japanese youths give him leering grins, tempted to take advantage of the foreigner, but Viktor glares at them over the top of his sunglasses until they go away.

He wishes he had a phone. He wants to send a message to Yuuri, but they agreed to avoid any contact until both of them are out of the country. He has Yuuri's WhatsApp account memorized, but it chafes, being unable to talk to him. He wants to make sure that Yuuri got to Thailand safely.

He misses Yuuri's voice, his sarcasm, the softness of his hair. He misses _Yuuri,_ and never before has Viktor ached to reach out to someone. Every nerve in his body is pulling him back to Hasetsu.

Once he and Yuri get to China, Viktor will call him. He only has to wait one more day.

A moment later, Yuri stumbles out of the convenience store, eyes wide. The panic on his face sends _danger_ right up Viktor's spine, and beneath the contacts and sunglasses, his eyes glow green as he listens for anybody talking about blond foreigners. "V--Crow," Yuri stutters, grabbing Viktor's arm. "It's on the news. Fuck, what do we do?"

Viktor hears the TV, instead, a Japanese news report. " _Police in Hasetsu, Kyushu, are still investigating the disappearance of Katsuki Yuuri, age 26. Katsuki was last seen leaving a convenience store on Monday, February 18, two weeks ago._ "

 _Yuuri._ Viktor doesn't hesitate, ripping past Yuri and running into the store, startling the employee. His attention fastens to the TV. Yuri follows him, but Viktor pays him no mind.

A woman is speaking on the news, next to a picture of Yuuri, from his old work ID. "Katsuki was reported missing by family members after he failed to contact them. Police found that his home had been vandalized and there was blood at the scene. Katsuki may have been injured, and police are investigating possible motives behind his disappearance. Recently, the police reported that the Strike Task Force conducted a search on Katsuki's house the day before he disappeared, but the STF has not made an official statement at this time. If our viewers have any information on Katsuki Yuuri or his whereabouts, please call the number..."

"No," Viktor whispers, horrified. Two weeks. Yuuri has been missing for two weeks, and Viktor had no idea.

What happened to Yuuri?

He grabs Yuri's jacket and drags him out of the convenience store, not stopping until they are several blocks away. There is a dingy little office building with a payphone in front of it, and Viktor scowls and pulls a few coins out of his pocket, punching in the numbers with more force than necessary.

The number rings twice before picking up. "Hello?"

"Mila," Viktor whispers, desperate. Only Mila can find him answers, now. 

"You! You're not supposed to call this number, you know. This is my real cell phone!" Mila hisses, but Viktor cuts her off before she can complain any further.

"Yuuri is missing. When was the last time you spoke with him?"

"What -- Yuuri? Hold on." Viktor listens to the sound of Mila moving away from the skating rink where she is practicing, until a door clicks closed and the sounds of coaches and students chatting dies down. "I haven't talked to him at all. What do you mean, he's missing?"

Viktor's heart skips a beat. "We saw a missing person's report on the news. He's been missing since the eighteenth. He hasn't contacted you?"

"No, I texted him my new number, but he never responded," Mila replies. "Look, I can't have an international call on my cell phone like this. I'll look into it when I get home. Can you get a disposable phone?"

"Yes," Viktor says numbly. "What's the new number?" Mila rattles it off, and Viktor memorizes it then hangs up without another word. Yuri is silent beside him, and Makkachin has pressed close to Viktor's side, sensing his distress.

"What the hell," Yuri whispers, but Viktor shakes his head once, sharply.

"Not here." He sends Yuri off to buy the supplies they need, as well as to an electronics store down the street. Nobody gives Yuri a second look, even with his pale hair, because of the way he glares at everybody. Viktor wishes he could fit into society so easily.

An hour later, Viktor tosses a tarp over the motorcycle, hiding it in the shadows, and makes his way into an old warehouse, breaking the lock easily. The floor is dusty, which means that no one should interrupt them. Viktor takes care of Makkachin first, setting out a bowl of water and food for her, then turns to Yuri.

Yuri holds out the phone to Viktor. He has already installed the necessary apps and entered Mila's second number, and Viktor opens the messages, his heart beating faster.

 **Crane** : _Missing person's report filed Tuesday, February 18, 2019. The STF raided him on the 17th but they don't have him. Their report says nothing was found and that he wasn't in the house at the time._  
**Crane** : _Police started looking for him after his family reported him missing. They found blood in his house. They don't have him either._  
**Crane** : _He didn't leave the country through normal channels. His friend in Thailand doesn't know where he is._  
**Crane** : _JP military doesn't have him. Naicho doesn't have him._  
**Crane** : _He didn't respond when I gave him the new number. He might have destroyed or lost his phone. If he sent any messages to my old number, I can't retrieve them._

Viktor closes his eyes, handing the phone back to Yuri and forcing himself to think. His first thought is that Yuuri was taken. That is his instinct, though a soft voice wonders if Yuuri ran instead and simply didn't tell Viktor his plans. He is quick to disregard that thought, though. Yuuri had been a hacker and a spy, but he hadn't hidden anything from Viktor. If Yuuri had run, then sooner or later, he would make contact with Viktor, one way or another. That he hasn't said a word in two weeks speaks of something more nefarious.

"Shit," Yuri says. "Shit, shit, _shit!_ What do we do? We have to save him!"

"We have to get the formula out of the country first," Viktor bites out, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That is our first priority. The boat will be here tonight, and..." His mind flies over details, the schedule he has decided on. They left Yuuri this soon because Viktor did not want to put him in danger, and it is safer to hide on the run than sit in one place, while they waited for the boat.

Viktor can't simply leave Yuuri, though, not after everything Yuuri did for him.

"We can't just abandon him!" Yuri snaps, but Viktor holds up his hand to quiet him. Then he reaches into his coat and pulls out the small black case alongside the plastic bag of flash drives, holding it out to Yuri.

"You will take this to Otabek. I will go back for Yuuri."

Yuri flinches away from the case, staring up at him with wide eyes. "I can't just leave you here."

"You have to. I'll get Yakov to arrange another boat. You _have_ to leave, Yura. Take that to Otabek, he will protect you, he will help you get that to Switzerland. You still have his password, right?"

"Zero-one-zero-three-zero-zero," Yuri replies, his voice a little faint. Viktor's face unfreezes enough for a twitch of his lips. Otabek's password has always been Yuri's birthday. "You'll... when you get him, you'll find us, right? You'll meet us somewhere?"

Viktor nods, then glances down at Makkachin. His heart aches sharply, but he has to leave her. "Take Makkachin with you. When you get to Shanghai, there will be a jeep waiting for you at this address. You can drive that to Otabek's location. Here." He pulls out his tiny black book and hands it over to Yuri, who still has not taken the case. Viktor holds his gaze for a long moment.

"Can you do this, Sparrow?" Viktor asks quietly.

Yuri swallows, then grabs the objects from him and stuffs them in his pocket. "Yeah. I can do it. Just get him back, okay?"

"I will," Viktor promises. He takes a deep breath, then kneels down in front of Makkachin, who has finished her supper and is watching him with large, dark eyes. "Makkachin, I've got to go away for a while. Yura will look after you, and soon you'll see Otabek. Remember Beka? Yeah?" Makkachin wags her tail, and Viktor smiles tightly, hugging her for a long moment before forcing himself to pull away.

"I'll contact you as soon as I know something," Viktor says quietly. Yuri nods, his eyes bright with fear and anger. As Viktor leaves the warehouse and goes to get the motorcycle, he holds that image in his mind, taking strength from it.

He will find Yuuri, no matter what.

~*~

Hasetsu seems empty without Yuuri.

Viktor wonders if he could have grown to love the city, had he explored it with Yuuri at his side. He used to wonder that often about the places he visits, if he could have enjoyed them as a normal person. He lost interest as he grew older and the missions wore down his resistance, but when he came to know Yuuri, and Yuuri would talk about Hasetsu... Viktor wished to know the town as Yuuri did.

He will never know, now.

Bypassing the city proper is easy. He did it once before in the dead of winter, and now he does it again amidst a chilly rain, the darkness hiding his body as he makes his way through the woods to Yuuri's home. At last the quaint little house comes into view, and Viktor hesitates by the tree line, listening for any signs of life inside.

The windows reflect only darkness, and not a single heart beats within. Viktor takes a deep breath, then approaches the hatch at the back of the house, hidden by a bush. He enters the code Yuuri gave him ages ago, silent as the hatch unlocks, and slips inside, shutting it behind him.

The basement is the same, cleaned of any evidence that he or Yuri stayed here for weeks; however, Viktor's eyes catch on an open suitcase on one of the cots, and he approaches it slowly.

The suitcase is full of Yuuri's belongings, items Viktor saw him use daily. Yuuri's phone and laptop are sitting beside it, both of them dead, and that more than anything throws up a red flag for Viktor. Yuuri would never leave his electronics behind if he had run away, and the police would have taken the items if they had found them for investigation. Viktor searches through the contents of the suitcase and finds Yuuri's clothes, his medications, and his toiletries. For a moment Viktor clutches the slightly dinged blue glasses case, unable to think about anything but Yuuri hiding down here, living out of his suitcase in case somebody raided the house.

The other cot is unmade. With a start, Viktor realizes that the empty cot was where he slept for weeks. He remembers tucking the blanket beneath the pillow and folding down the crease, but the blankets are askew, as if someone slept in it. Viktor kneels down beside the cot, touching the sheets, and when he breathes in, he catches the faintest hint of _Yuuri_.

His heart skips a beat. Yuuri slept in his cot -- to be closer to him. To feel safe.

He closes his eyes tightly for a moment, overwhelmed, before he shakes his head of the emotions and stands. If Yuuri was hiding down here during his last days in Hasetsu, then he was almost certainly taken by force. His lips turned downward, Viktor climbs the ladder, unlatching the fake floor and pushing it up slowly, then opening the closet door.

When he steps into the hallway, Viktor breathes in the familiar scents of Yuuri's house, and his chest aches. He had liked it here, had felt peaceful here despite the stress of waiting for Yakov and Mila to send word. Yuuri had welcomed him and Yuri when none of their other contacts had bothered to care, merely wanting the money or fearing them too much to treat them kindly. Yuuri was the only person who had worried about them, talked to them like normal people, even cooked homemade meals for them. Yuuri's kindness had been half the reason Viktor had fallen in love with him.

Quickly Viktor shakes his head to clear it and focuses on surveying the house.

The first thing he notices is that the house is a complete wreck, far different than how he and Yuri left it weeks ago. No room has been spared, not even the kitchen, though Viktor is quick to notice that perishable food items have been removed. Yuuri probably did that himself, since he had intended to leave for a few years. All that remains of the kitchen is a few boxes of spices and canned goods, alongside a sack of rice; a note beside the boxes reads in Japanese, _For mom and dad._

He had left Yuuri on Sunday, early enough that the sun had not yet risen. Yuuri's flight had been meant for the following Wednesday. Yuuri must have gone missing before Tuesday afternoon; that gives Viktor almost two days for Yuuri's disappearance, too long a time to narrow down, but it is something. 

He checks the windows and doors for any sign of forced entry. Only the front door looks like it was busted down and hastily repaired, and he finds a few new scuffs in the entryway. The wall in the entryway has a dent in it, as if something heavy slammed into it, and one part of the doorjamb to the living room is broken. Further down the hall, Viktor notices some stains that make the hairs on his neck stand up, not far from the crack he had left. He stares down at the dark stains, Yuuri's voice in his ear scolding him and Yuri for damaging the floor, that day they had fought.

_"I don't care if you're mad at each other! Don't take it out on my floor!" ___

__He huffs and shakes his head again. This house has too many memories, but he must stand strong against them -- or else crumble in the face of the knowledge that he couldn't protect Yuuri. And Viktor cannot deal with that, not now, not when he needs to concentrate._ _

__The news report had mentioned blood. Viktor doesn't see a lot of it, but the fact that blood stains are even here... he doesn't want to think about the consequences of that._ _

__Viktor turns his attention to the living room. The space is a mess -- which is so unlike how Viktor and Yuri left the house, since Yuri had spent much of the time that Viktor healed cleaning. More signs of uproar in the furniture, though thankfully no more stains. The mess here seems more methodically, and abruptly, Viktor realizes it looks just like when the Strike Task Force invaded Yuuri's home weeks ago and raided him._ _

__The thought sets his nerves on edge. When the Strike Task Force had raided Yuuri's home the first time, they had torn the place apart, hurting Yuuri in the process. According to Mila, they had not taken Yuuri, but Viktor still worries. If there had been violence in the hallway, such as Yuuri fighting back or the STF working hard to subdue him, then there would be more broken furniture, instead of simply the mess of a group of people searching through someone's belongings._ _

__Two separate incidents, maybe? Viktor just isn't sure._ _

__Likely, Yuuri had been upstairs, and someone had come to visit -- someone that Yuuri had trusted, enough to open the door for them. The person had come into the house, then had possibly used force to subdue Yuuri. The police, perhaps? Another military agency? The thought of the military entering Yuuri's house again makes Viktor clench his hands. He had warned Yuuri not to open his door to them again, to hide in the basement if another raid happened before he could leave the country._ _

__Yet Viktor is not certain that is what happened. It is possible, yes. But he wants to believe Yuuri took his warnings to heart._ _

__He slinks along the front of the house, searching for any hidden cameras or recorders, and finds none. Frustrated, Viktor turns away from the windows and makes his way to the back of the house. In the doorway to Yuuri's room, he falters._ _

__He had slept with Yuuri here. He had opened his false heart to Yuuri, and Yuuri had seen his true heart beneath the green circle of metal. He had accepted Viktor even though he was no longer human. He had given Viktor hope where none had existed for twenty years. Viktor had fallen in love with Yuuri here, and for a time that he will always hold precious, their hearts had beat as one._ _

__Viktor will check out the police records after this... but first._ _

__First, he wants to worry, to grieve. To hate himself for failing Yuuri._ _

__Slowly he crosses the room, sitting down heavily on the bed and closing his eyes as tears sting at his heart, unable to choke back a sob. Yuuri had been _so close_ to escaping -- his plane ticket had been in order, he had been packing, his house had been ready to be closed up... Viktor thought Yuuri had been safe. He had made sure to show himself in public several times after they left, just so the military would be distracted from investigating Hasetsu any further. Yakov had spread rumors; Mila had monitored the news; and yet none of them had been able to stop Yuuri from disappearing in a way Viktor had not anticipated. Who had taken him? Why had they taken him? It wasn't the Strike Task Force or the other agencies searching for Viktor; Mila had already confirmed that._ _

__No matter the conditions of his capture, Viktor had been too far away to protect Yuuri. He had failed to keep his promise._ _

__Viktor sinks down against the blue comforter, closing his eyes as he breathes in Yuuri's scent, and he lets himself break apart. He will get up soon and continue._ _

__But first, he needs a moment -- to be close to the last place Yuuri loved him._ _

____

~*~

The police report has a great deal more information than Viktor had already guessed. They hadn't found the hidden bunker, and thus the proof that Yuuri's belongings were still in his house had not factored into their suspicions. Grimly, Viktor goes through the entire report, taking note of everything the police noticed, and what they did not.

_'Signs of forced entry, including blood matching the victim's blood type as recorded on file. House was dusted for fingerprints, but none of the prints match any on record, including military files.'_

Viktor raises an eyebrow at that. Any military group worth their salt would never leave fingerprints during a raid, but the fact that the police even checked speaks volumes about their distrust. Grimly, he continues reading.

_'Entire house was in upheaval, matching descriptions of other residents' claims from STF raids. Officer Sato questioned the STF about exercising a raid against victim. The STF admitted to raiding the victim's home at 1:30 PM on February 17, 2019, but insisted that the victim was not home at the time nor did they encounter him. They also insisted that there was no sign of blood or other forced entry. See Officer Sato's report for more details.'_

_'STF might be lying. However, if they are telling the truth, could another party have kidnapped Katsuki-kun? -- Sakamura'_

Viktor frowns deeply, flipping over to read the STF report, which leaves him cold. It contains both the officer's description of the interview with the STF officer as well as the STF internal report on the raid.

_'Warrant for Search: Suspicion of collusion with foreign agents.'_

_'Note -- Foreign agents??? Please ask the STF officer for more details on this warrant. -- Sakamura'_

_'Note -- STF officer was not happy about giving us their report. He tried to cite several protocols to avoid it, but after I threatened to subpoena him, he sent it to me. He was very rude and unwilling to work with me, which seems suspicious. -- Sato'_

If the STF did not have Yuuri, as they had told the police... then perhaps Yuuri did take Viktor's warnings to heart and had hidden downstairs during the raid. Then who had taken him? After such a raid, Yuuri would have been terrified of further visitors, yet Yuuri had opened the door willingly to whomever had visited him. Given Yuuri's fear of the Strike Task Force and strangers, that left either a friend, a family member, a coworker, or an acquaintance. Someone Yuuri had already known.

 _'According to family and former employer, victim was preparing for a long-term trip, but suitcase, laptop, cell phone, and personal effects were missing.'_ Of course the police hadn't found them -- they were in the hidden basement. Too important a detail to miss, which makes Viktor scowl for a moment. _'Family believes victim would not have left without contacting them first. Officers close to the victim's family agree that victim is loyal to his family. Victim's belongings may have been stolen.'_

Viktor blinks, raising an eyebrow. So some of the police force knew Yuuri's family? Then they might have known Yuuri when he was younger. Yuuri had never mentioned that to him; so much he had not told Viktor, unable to give him more than simple love, when they had whispered to each other in the dark. Viktor had told Yuuri even less, and he regrets it now, that he did not share his life with Yuuri more.

If -- _when_ he finds Yuuri, he will change that.

_'Plane tickets found on victim's desk, pictured. Destination was Bangkok, Thailand. Flight records show that victim never entered airport on day of flight and did not notify flight agency that he would change his plans. Friend Phichit Chulanont in Thailand confirmed by phone that victim did not contact him either.'_

More signs that Yuuri did not leave his house willingly. Yuuri would never be so sloppy with his schedule, had he left the country another way. He would have tied up all of these loose ends, to avoid any suspicion that something was wrong. He would have followed his schedule to the last detail, and this more than anything confirms Viktor's belief that Yuuri was taken by someone.

_'Blood found at scene matches victim's blood type according to hospital records. Amount of blood was miniscule, not enough for a severe injury, but victim may have been moved while injured. No further details about possible injuries.'_

Viktor breathes out, a little shakily. The smallest balm to his aching heart, yet still not enough. He pages through the rest of the report, seeing the transcriptions of the conversations the police had with Yuuri's family, coworkers, and friends. He reads through them half-heartedly but sees no details that stand out. The last pages, though, are a medical report and a copy of another police report -- the first assault from the STF, including the pictures Viktor took of Yuuri's bruises.

Viktor's expression goes dark as he glances at the medical report. At the top is the same name that prescribed Yuuri his painkillers, _Muramoto Shinji_. Attached is a tiny note, and Viktor's heart skips a beat when he reads it.

_'Could Katsuki-kun's disappearance be related to his assault case? Interview the doctor -- Sakamura'_

Viktor breathes out a little at the thought, carefully putting the police report back into its folder and sliding the drawer shut. He can confirm that the Strike Task Force does not have Yuuri, if only because of Mila's surveillance of their networks. Even if the police do not have all the details, he can trust that they care about Yuuri's disappearance. If only Viktor could trust them to find him.

He leaves the police station as quietly as he entered it, absently swiping an umbrella and avoiding the cameras with ease. He walks down the street with the umbrella protecting his head, his hat pulled low over his hair. Nobody gives him a second glance as he walks down the street, the rain a better shield than any disguise.

Yuuri's family, friends, employer, and neighbors had all been questioned. Nobody had admitted anything, nor did anybody know what happened to Yuuri. From what the police have pieced together, Yuuri disappeared sometime between 11 AM on Monday and 8 PM on Tuesday. His last work shift had been Sunday, and he had collected his pay and deposited it at the bank on Monday morning. Then he had picked up an early lunch from a convenience store and headed home. 

His family had called him on Tuesday several times with no response, until his sister had come to fetch him and found the door unlocked and Yuuri missing. She had called the police immediately, and cameras from the train had backed up her story. All of Yuuri's friends and family had alibis, though nobody seemed to believe that Yuuri's family or friends had anything to do with Yuuri's disappearance. Some of the officers had speculated that Yuuri had run away, but the officers closest to his family, who must have known Yuuri growing up, insisted that Yuuri was too responsible for such an immature decision.

They simply had no idea. Neither does Viktor, and it burns a little of his rage, to think that he is so inept at finding the most important person in his life.

Viktor pauses at the edge of an alley, tempted to disappear into its darkness and lose himself for a little while. He toys with the idea for a moment, his lips tightening, when someone bumps his shoulder.

"Excuse me, young man," says a familiar voice, and Viktor freezes. Slowly he turns to watch the older Japanese man walk away from him, his gaze flaring green, unseen by the man.

 _Koroba._ What is that man doing in Japan? The last time Viktor saw him, he was in Russia.

Viktor steps back into the alley, leaving the umbrella behind as he leaps upwards and lands nimbly on the roof of the building. Unseen by the few people walking the streets below, he jumps from roof to roof to follow the man, all the way to a middle class neighborhood, using the cover of rain and night to avoid detection. When at last the man stops in front of a spacious property with a two-story house, Viktor crouches low on the roof of the opposite house, his eyes narrowed as the man disappears inside. His gaze then falls on the family marque beside the gate, and his heart nearly stops.

It matches the name on Yuuri's medical records.

A moment later, the roof is empty, lightning flashing over the space where a figure once sat.

~*~

Muramoto Shinji wakes slowly, opening his eyes to darkness and a sharp ache at the back of his head. There is a cloth covering his head. His hands are bound tightly behind his back, and he is sitting in a chair. He frowns, calm as he tests the bindings. He had walked into his study to finish some paperwork, and something had struck him in the head. An attack?

"So, what is the good Doctor doing in Hasetsu, Japan of all places?" asks a voice from behind him in Russian. Muramoto starts and turns his head, but he cannot see anyone; the room is dark beyond the cloth covering his eyes, and he does not recognize the voice. Masculine, deep with anger and disgust, and colder than the Russian winter. A native speaker if he has ever heard one.

He digs his tongue into his back teeth, his heart sinking with acceptance -- and finds nothing but a gap.

"Ah, but I am aware of your tricks, good Doctor. You will not escape my questions through a little pill." Muramoto hears something cracking, like a small pill being crushed, and he grimaces. He stays silent.

Booted footsteps pace the room around him, slow and sure. "I will be frank. I know who and what you are. Why are you here in Japan?"

Muramoto does not speak.

Suddenly something hard hits the chair he is sitting on, and both he and the chair are knocked to the floor roughly. Muramoto hits his head with a grunt, and a boot lands in front of his face, just barely missing his nose. Something sharp presses against his hip, and Muramoto hisses in surprise.

"You will answer the question, Doctor, else you will lose your kidney. I have no patience today."

Muramoto cringes away from the knife. "I am retired," he says quietly in Japanese.

"You cannot retire from the program, good Doctor. Not after your illustrious history of cutting open young children to become mindless soldiers for the Motherland. Now, tell the truth." The knife slices easily through his clothes, cold steel hitting his skin.

"Seeding," Muramoto blurts out, then closes his eyes, resigned. "For the program. I am retired from that part of it. Now I... I see to patients as normal, and if any of them match the requirements, I inform my superiors and have the patient transferred. I do not cut them open anymore!"

A beat passes, and the knife draws away. Muramoto rests his head against the floor. His attacker grabs his hair and drags him upright, chair and all, and suddenly the knife is pressed against Muramoto's neck. "How many have you transferred?"

"One. Just one," he gasps. 

His attacker draws in a slow breath, as if controlling his temper. "Describe them."

Muramoto swallows, the first meeting he ever had with Katsuki Yuuri coming to mind. "Twenty-six year old male. Lived alone on the outskirts of town. Blood type A. He got into fights. A lowlife criminal! He was nobody!"

" _Yuuri is not nobody._ "

Muramoto's head snaps up at the growl, his entire body freezing, as a worthless prey animal caught in the gaze of the predator's deadly glare. How had his attacker known? He had not given a name. He need not see to know that his attacker is inches from his face, the knife hard against his neck, and he closes his eyes, waiting to die --

Then the man lets him go, the chair rocking back and hitting the wall. Muramoto cringes away, finding his usually steady hands shaking. "As much as I wish to kill you, I need a few more details. So," the man says cheerfully, a hardened edge beneath the falsity, "you're going to tell me exactly what happened the day that you knocked on Katsuki Yuuri's door and kidnapped him, as well as where he has been taken. Then you're going to march into the nearest _kouban_ and turn yourself in as the prime suspect in Katsuki Yuuri's disappearance."

The _shick_ of a knife dragging against wood sends a shiver down Muramoto's spine.

"As -- as if I would --"

"Oh, but you will. After the horrifying actions you took against innocent children, not to mention what you did to Yuuri, that is the _least_ you can do to begin to absolve your guilt. Though I doubt you will ever be truly free of it. Shall we begin?"

Outside thunder crashes, and the storm rages on through the night. Nobody hears the screams.

~*~

Viktor returns to Yuuri's house with a list of names and locations, his mouth turned down in a scowl. He drags himself to the back of the house, stripping down and leaving his soaking garments in the hall, ignoring the admonition of Yuuri's voice in his head not to dirty his floor in such a way. He passes the _ofuro_ and goes straight to the shower, turning it on and standing beneath the cold cascade, his tall form shivering slightly as he struggles, very carefully, not to lose his mind.

If a few tears slip out, the water washes them away, just as the rain had outside.

He stands silent for hours, minutes, he has no idea, his hands clenched at his sides and his head bowed. Eventually the tension drains out of him, his broad shoulders sinking beneath the weight of new knowledge -- then, at the edge of his desperation, squaring with determination. Silently he turns off the shower and finds one of Yuuri's fluffy white towels, smiling a little at the blue stripes at the end.

His guilt makes him pick up his wet clothes and hang them over the side of the _ofuro_. The thought of Yuuri seeing the puddles of water and shrieking makes him drop his towel on the floor to wipe it up with his foot, silent as he returns to Yuuri's bedroom. He doesn't bother turning on the lights; he doesn't need them, and he doesn't want to draw attention to a supposedly empty house.

For a few minutes, Viktor stands in the center of Yuuri's room, the only sound the faint drops of water hitting the floor at his feet. Viktor sighs and slicks his hair back, walking over to Yuuri's dresser and pulling open the second drawer, then falters when he sees the same pair of pants Yuuri lent him before. He smiles a little, touching the grey cotton, then pulls them out and slips them on, not bothering with a shirt. Yuuri's shirts were always too tight in the chest for him anyway.

He turns to look at the bed, the comforter only slightly rumpled. His gaze catches on Yuuri's desk, where a small picture of a younger Yuuri with his dog Vicchan is pinned to a board on the wall. With a faint smile, Viktor takes down the picture and pockets it. Then he turns away, collects the rest of his belongings, and goes downstairs to the bunker, dropping the wet clothes by the wall before sinking down on the empty cot and curling up amidst Yuuri's scent.

He pulls out the picture and stares at it. His Yuuri, young and innocent and just as sweet as he is now.

"I'll find you," he whispers, closing his fingers around the picture and holding it close to his chest. "I promise I'll save you."

~*~

Before dawn the next morning, Viktor leaves Yuuri's house. He takes Yuuri's cell phone and laptop, alongside the hard drives from his safe and his spare glasses. Anything else, Viktor will buy for them later.

He calls Yuri on his way back to the motorcycle, using the disposable Japanese phone that Yuri bought in Miyazaki.

"Tell me you found him," Yuri answers, demanding. Viktor can hear a motor running, along with distant sounds of traffic. Yuri must have found the jeep; good. Soon he will be safe in Otabek's hands.

For a moment, Viktor cannot speak. He doesn't want to tell Yuri what has happened to Yuuri. He knows the knowledge will haunt Yuri and possibly distract him from his mission, but the worry churning in Yuri's gut will be even worse. He ducks around a tree and exhales.

"Velenos has him. Koroba was in Hasetsu," Viktor says, his voice empty of emotion. "He was working as a doctor for the seeding program. Yuuri was... selected, when he went to the doctor after his assault. They don't know about his connection to us. They took him because he has the gene to become a Circle."

Muramoto Shinji, also known as Korobi Isau. The Russians called him Isay Korotkov, though he was called _Koroba_ by the children he would slice open year after year for the Velenos Corporation, installing metal circles around their hearts. Viktor had been one of his victims, long ago. Yuri had been another.

He is now in the custody of Japanese police, suspected for the assault and kidnapping of Katsuki Yuuri. This Viktor relays to Yuri, as well as the details of the police report on Yuuri. 

Yuri never says a word, but Viktor knows he is listening, that he is gripping the wheel of his jeep tightly, and that his heart never stops pumping fury through his veins. Yuri's control of the vehicle never slips, to Viktor's relief, but the feeling doesn't last long. He is afraid Yuri will turn around and swim back to Hasetsu.

"I have the destinations for the seeded soldiers," Viktor finally says, his steps steady as he walks across the muddy ground. "They're taking him to Khabarovsk, then to Magadan. If he survives, they will send him to Novokuznetsk."

"He's not a damn soldier," breathes Yuri, and a minute flinch runs through Viktor. "If he _survives_? They're going to fuck him over, just like they fucked us up? _Goddamnit, Viktor!_ We should have taken him with us! We should have protected him! Now he's going to _die_ for those piece of shit bastards! I'll kill them, I'll kill every last one of them --"

"I'm not going to let him die," Viktor snaps. He swallows against the grief in his throat at the thought of Yuuri dying. "I'm going after him. I'll get him back, Yura."

Yuri is silent for another moment, before he curses again. "You're going back to Russia. To _them_? If they catch you --"

"I won't be caught." Viktor doesn't say anything for a moment as he walks through the trees, until he comes to his hidden motorcycle. He sets the phone in his pocket and pulls the tarp down, systematically folding it and storing it away, along with Yuuri's belongings. "I will get him back. I will save him before they turn him into one of us. He doesn't deserve that."

Viktor chokes on the last words, his emotions finally breaking through, and for a few minutes, he cannot speak. He knows the likelihood of Yuuri surviving the serum, and it is too low to give him any comfort. Even with the surgeries that the doctors like Koroba will inflict upon Yuuri, even with the gene that makes him a likely candidate for survive... there is no way to know that Yuuri will survive, let alone escape.

Viktor has to try. He refuses to lose Yuuri to Velenos.

"If you're going back, then I'll --"

"You must keep moving," Viktor interrupts, his voice going cold. "You absolutely cannot be caught. That formula must make it to Switzerland. Christophe is waiting for it. He has a team of doctors ready to begin researching it, so that we may escape the trap that Velenos has set for us. You _cannot fail_ in this, Yura."

Yuri refuses to give in. Viktor grits his teeth in frustration. "I can't let you go back to Russia alone!"

"We don't have a choice!" Viktor shouts, then bites his lip and covers his face for a moment. "I _need_ you to do this. Please."

For a long moment, Yuri is nearly silent. There is a faint noise building up in Yuri's throat, a keening grief that threatens to overwhelm him. Viktor can hear every subtle tone, and the ice in his heart melts just enough to hate himself for putting this pressure on his young teammate, who has been pushed into a role that he should never have to fulfill.

"You'll save him?" Yuri finally whispers. Viktor closes his eyes, exhaling in relief as Yuri gives in.

"I will save him. Then I will destroy everyone who dared to harm him," Viktor promises, his voice going cold. His rage still burns in his veins, at the injustice of Yuuri being taken by the Velenos Corporation. Not even torturing Koroba for information had soothed his fury.

Viktor will save Yuuri from the Green Circle program, or he will die trying. He will not sleep or eat until he has Yuuri safe in his arms again.

If he is too late...

"Kill them all," Yuri tells him flatly. Viktor can't find it in himself to disagree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! (*´♡`*)


	10. in the shallows

_Two weeks ago..._

The door bangs open, catching Yuuri on his shoulder and sending him sprawling in the hallway. Yuuri scrambles to get up, to get away before they hurt him, but a hand grabs the back of his head and slams his face against the floor. Yuuri reels, then lashes out with his bare feet and hears a grunt.

"Subdue him," Muramoto- _sensei_ says in a flat, uncaring tone, and one of the men grabs Yuuri by the hair and wrenches him around, landing a punch on Yuuri's face.

He hears a crack, followed by sharp pain in his nose and a rush of blood. His glasses go flying, and a heavy boot kicks him in the ribs, the same sore spot from when the STF hurt him before. Yuuri screams and grabs onto the door frame, but he is unable to escape the hands grabbing him and dragging him down, the wood splintering from the force of Yuuri being ripped away.

"No! Let me go! _Get off me!_ " His cries are useless, though. In a matter of moments, Yuuri is subdued. He lies still under several men, blood trickling from his nose, unable to move. Terrified, Yuuri looks up as Muramoto- _sensei_ steps into his house.

"You shouldn't have resisted, though I can't say I'm surprised," Muramoto- _sensei_ tells him, a cruel light in his eyes. "When you came into my office, I knew you'd be trouble. Loner, estranged from his family, violent... Perfect for the group of people you'll soon work with."

Muramoto- _sensei_ gestures to one of the men, and Yuuri follows the motion and tries to understand what Muramoto- _sensei_ means. That is when he sees it: the faint glow of green beneath the darkened glass in the soldier's mask. Yuuri's blood turns to ice in his veins.

_No. No, anything but that._

"Katsuki-san, you are about to embark on a remarkable journey that will change your life. You have been selected for a very special program in service to your country. You have tested positive for the rare gene known as the Velenos gene. In having this gene, you have been admitted to the illustrious Velenos program. Refusal is not an option.

"The Velenos Corporation has a history extending back nearly one hundred years, created first for the glory of Russia, and then in collaboration with the rest of the world. Oh, but you'll find out more about that later, if you survive the process.

"Now hold still, Katsuki-san. With a needle this big, I wouldn't want to miss your vein."

Yuuri redoubles his efforts to escape, but his struggles are futile, the Green Circles holding him captive easily. One of them forces down his arm and rolls up his sleeve, and Muramoto- _sensei_ kneels down, his gloved thumb pressing over Yuuri's vein. As the needle slides in, panic begins to blacken Yuuri's vision, before everything fades away.

The last thing he sees is a faint green glow.

~*~

Yuuri wakes in heavy chains that cuff his hands and feet together. He is sitting in a dimly lit truck, surrounded by several other Japanese men and women, all of them bound as he is, while heavily armed guards stand over them. Yuuri's glasses are missing, and he is wearing the same clothes from when he woke up, his feet bare. The truck jostles them every so often, and Yuuri struggles to focus, the drug that is fogging his brain limiting his responses.

Some of the other people are crying, but most of them are silent, either too drugged or terrified to fight back. Yuuri keeps one eye on the closest guard as his mind slowly clears and evaluates his situation.

Muramoto- _sensei_ betrayed him. How had he been chosen? Muramoto- _sensei_ had mentioned a gene... Yuuri doesn't understand much about genetics, only what he learned in school, but surely they would have had to do DNA testing to know if he had a special gene.

His blood goes cold. All the tests he did at the doctor's office. They took his blood and did swabs in his mouth. He hadn't understood the tests at the time, and he hadn't mentioned it to Viktor, either. Then again... it's normal for doctors to take blood, so he hadn't suspected anything.

If he has the gene, does that mean his family has it, too? Are they in danger of being taken for the program as well? Yuuri closes his eyes and thinks hard. Usually, the people who disappeared were loners, runaways, or criminals -- people unlikely to be missed. Muramoto- _sensei_ had assumed Yuuri to be a thug... so hopefully that means his family will be safe. They are active in society and run a business; they know practically everyone in Hasetsu.

Yet, so does Yuuri, for that matter... and Muramoto- _sensei_ had assumed that he was nobody.

Yuuri opens his eyes halfway, sickened with anxiety. He should have never gone to the doctor. He should never have trusted Muramoto- _sensei_. He hadn't even seemed like an evil person, yet Yuuri should have been suspicious anyway. Yuuri knows he will have nightmares about the way Muramoto- _sensei_ looked at him. If he survives, that is.

If they find out he knows Viktor... who knows what they will do to him.

Just as Yuuri had feared, he is being kidnapped by the government -- but not because of his knowledge, his espionage, or his criminal activities. No, the reality of his situation is far, far worse. The Velenos Corporation has taken him prisoner to turn him into a Circle, and Yuuri has no idea how he will escape.

Yuuri lowers his gaze to his cuffed hands, thinking hard. Muramoto- _sensei_ spoke of the Velenos Corporation and the Green Circles as if Yuuri knew nothing about them -- which, as a normal person, he wouldn't have known. His captors have no idea about the extent of Yuuri's knowledge. His ability to speak Russian, the secrets about the Green Circles, Viktor and Yurio -- they have no idea.

The one saving grace in his doom, perhaps.

Where will they take him? What will they do with him? Will his family search for him? Will Viktor search for him? His parents will be worried when Yuuri doesn't visit like he promised. Without Yuuri calling them to cancel his visit, they will likely send someone to check on him, either Mari- _neechan_ or Minako- _sensei_. They will see the state of his house, and they will call the police.

Yuuri dreads the thought of the police finding his secret bunker. His laptop, though empty of the videos and pictures he saved of Crow and the other Circles, is filled with programs and encryption that would make anybody suspicious. Information on computers can always be retrieved, though Yuuri did his best to wipe the drive. Plus there is his letter, admitting his guilt.

Will his disappearance make the news? As a missing person, or as a wanted terrorist? Will he 'conveniently disappear' while in custody?

Yuuri doesn't put it past his captors. Phichit's friend Chatchom had disappeared, likely killed by the Velenos Corporation. Viktor had warned him of their powerful reach, but Yuuri hadn't thought it would apply to him in this way. Not like this.

What will Viktor think? Will he suspect that Yuuri ran away? Will he search for Yuuri?

Yuuri wants Viktor to save him -- but he doesn't want Viktor to be caught. He wants Viktor to run far, far away. To Yuuri, the thought of becoming a Circle, with the incredibly low chance of surviving, terrifies him enough that he wishes he could find something sharp and end it now. He doesn't want Viktor to come back to this.

He wishes he knew what to do. Any chance to escape, he will take it.

Time passes, and Yuuri drifts, the lull of the moving bus and the remnants of drugs in his system soporific. He thinks of Viktor and how Viktor might react to realizing that Yuuri never made it to Thailand. Phichit would be worried, too, and he would have no way of knowing what had happened. No one will know where he has gone. Even if they find his hidden bunker and search his computer and phone, Yuuri has left only a letter detailing his decision to run away.

They may not even look for him, if they find his letter. Phichit would be the only person to understand why, because Yuuri mentioned the Green Circle and the mysterious Velenos Corporation in his letter. The authorities would not believe Yuuri had been kidnapped, though, if they read that letter; they would think he had run away.

Viktor, too... would he believe Yuuri had run away in cowardice? He had spoken of the importance of his mission, to deliver the item he stole from the Fukuoka power plant to someone else's hands. Yuuri doesn't want Viktor to walk right back into the dangerous world of the Circles. He wants Viktor to run.

He wants Viktor to save him.

The bus comes to a stop, and Yuuri is drawn out of his depressing thoughts when the soldiers move from their positions, stomping to the pair of doors at the back of the bus. Two soldiers slide the doors open and hop out, revealing what looks like a military base, buses and planes stationary in the distance, beside several gray, nondescript buildings. The men running around the base are all in military fatigues, with symbols in place of names and titles on their clothing.

"Everybody out. Do not resist," says a tall, white-haired man with a flat expression, walking up from a nearby building. Unlike the rest of the soldiers, he has no markings on his clothes at all, and if Yuuri had seen him on the street, he wouldn't have thought him to be a soldier. The man takes a clipboard and flips through it as the prisoners climb out of the bus, blinking at the overcast gray light. Yuuri half fears the man will start calling out names, but he only counts the prisoners, checks off the papers, and hands them off to another soldier.

"Divide them up," the white-haired man says to the soldier with the clipboard. "I want the group going to Russia on a plane in two hours."

"Yes, sir."

The white-haired man glances over them, his dark eyes passing over Yuuri without pausing, and Yuuri shivers under his cold glance. Finally the white-haired man leaves, and the soldiers force them into three lines. When the soldier with the clipboard pauses in front of Yuuri, he simply says, "Russia," and moves on, striking trepidation into Yuuri's heart.

Yuuri's gaze goes to the far side of the massive concrete lot, where a high fence with barbed wire sits. Yuuri doubts he could manage to climb it, not with his flabby stomach and weak arms. The man next to him seems to have similar thoughts; Yuuri is only aware of a brief movement before the man takes off running, the handcuffs dropping to the ground. Yuuri stiffens as the man bolts.

To his surprise, none of the soldiers react other than to watch. In the distance, the man with white hair pauses, turning his head -- and then suddenly he is at the running man's side, grabbing his shoulder and slamming him into the concrete. Yuuri flinches at the sickening crack, covering his mouth, his handcuffs clinking in the silence. Everyone else stares in stunned shock, as the white-haired man straightens, leaving a bloody mess beneath him.

"That is what happens if you resist," the white-haired man says, glancing over the crowd of prisoners. "Don't."

His dark gaze meets Yuuri's frightened stare briefly, before he turns and walks away. A shiver runs through Yuuri at the sight. Just before the man looked away, his eyes had bled blue, shining eerily in the fog.

 _Blue? Not green? I don't understand._ Yuuri closes his eyes.

_What am I going to do?_

~*~

They separate Yuuri with the rest of the people headed for Russia and file him onto a massive military airplane, where Yuuri is strapped into a seat and made to wait an unnerving fifteen hours before he sees sunlight again. They feed everyone flavorless nutrition bars and water, but otherwise, the soldiers never speak to them, except to announce the time every so often.

When the massive plane lands, Yuuri is marched out into a freezing rain. They separate the prisoners into groups again, this time by gender, and send them into barracks, where Yuuri is forced to undress and step into a cold shower, under the cruel eyes of a Russian taskmaster. The orders are barked out in English -- and Yuuri can only wonder how many nationalities are represented in their group of victims.

No one resists. Yuuri hasn't slept in almost twenty-four hours, because every time he closes his eyes, he hears the crunch of a man's skull being cracked open on concrete.

He does nothing to fight. His mind is too numb with shock, even as they give him an identification number, a stack of nondescript clothes, and a small bed in a room full of fearful people. Even when they are fed and told their new schedule, then sent to sleep in their new beds with thin blankets, Yuuri never says a word.

He listens, though.

"They stole me out of my bed at home," one man whispers to another. All of the women from their group are sleeping in another room, and the barracks are filled with whispers of fear and worry. Yuuri can hear Korean, Thai, Cantonese, Mandarin, and more. "Said my girlfriend was dead! She can't be!"

"We're going to be brainwashed," says another, a wooden tone to his voice. "They're going to use us as fodder in their wars."

"I think it's great, yeah? They said I can kill people. It'll be amazing," gushes a rather young man with a wild look in his eye. Most people avoid that one afterwards.

He listens to the soldiers, too, who speak in Russian as if no one can understand them. Yuuri's bed is located close to the doors, where two soldiers are stationed to guard them. They occasionally shout when the noise gets too loud, but otherwise spend the night talking to each other, not caring if their voices keep people awake.

"This group doesn't seem too impressive," the taller soldier says, leaning over to spit on the floor.

"They never do," replies the shorter soldier. "But they might surprise us. We only have to deal with them for two weeks while they test everyone, at least."

"Boring. It'd be more interesting in Magadan, where we could watch them kill each other."

The other soldier laughs. Yuuri bites into his lip, wondering if that is the name of a Russian town. He has no idea where they are, only that they are in Russia somewhere. It is colder here than in Hasetsu, so likely they are further north, or nearer to mountains.

He doesn't like the idea of the prisoners fighting each other any more than he likes the soldiers mocking them. The soldiers' conversation turns to music, and Yuuri listens half-heartedly, until he falls asleep at last, fitful and anxious.

When he wakes, Yuuri is given another flavorless meal, then sent to queue in a hallway of white rooms. When his number is called, Yuuri walks in to find a doctor and two nurses, who briskly strip him of his clothes and stand him in the middle of the room, shivering. One nurse weighs and measures him, while the other draws blood and checks his vitals.

The doctor says little. She already has several papers with his information on it, and Yuuri is bitterly reminded of Muramoto- _sensei_ and his treachery. The only time the doctor speaks to him directly is when she tests his vision, speaking in stern English before she switches to Russian with the nurses.

"Didn't even keep his glasses," she mutters as she writes down his prescription. "I don't care how illustrious Korotkov's career is. You can't send me a half-blind patient with no glasses. Ridiculous."

"So he's from Korotkov?" asks one of the nurses, as she hands Yuuri back his shirt. Yuuri is slow to pull it on, his attention on the conversation.

"The only one so far," the doctor replies. "His genetic profile is almost perfect. He's too weak to be a soldier, though. Maybe they'll put him in analytics or assassination."

Yuuri keeps his eyes on the floor as he puts his shoes back on, ignoring the comment about his body. Korotkov must be Muramoto- _sensei_ , and it sounds like a more suitable name for him. Yuuri doesn't want to give him any respect, after he sold Yuuri to this bleak life.

"You will get glasses tomorrow," the doctor tells him in English, then sends him out to return to the barracks. Yuuri goes silently, glancing at the soldiers he passes, who ignore him completely. Their hands remain on their guns at all times, the triggers easily within reach. If he ran, he would just get shot.

He has to bide his time.

~*~

They test the prisoners on everything, ranging from the physical -- limitations, reflexes, strength, the ability to fight -- to the mental -- psychological profile, intelligence, morality, language skill, and more. Yuuri debates lying. He doesn't dare reveal his extensive knowledge of Russian and Thai, only admitting that he knows English. He downplays his knowledge as best as he can, but he answers truthfully about how he feels about killing and war.

He hates it. Let them understand that about him, at least.

Yuuri is terrible at the physical tests. He isn't in good shape, and the bits of self-defense that he learned from Viktor and Yurio are useless. His reflexes are okay, and his stamina is excellent. He doesn't know how to fight, though.

It doesn't seem to matter. The soldiers who run the tests don't say anything to the prisoners, but Yuuri overhears them talking about how everyone will be trained once they are sent to the next base. He doesn't look forward to that.

The rest of the prisoners seem to band together into groups, holding onto each other for stability and companionship, as much as they are terrified. Yuuri has never been good with people, so he doesn't bother. He barely talks, only responding in Japanese or English if pressed. He listens to all of the conversations and wishes he had learned more languages.

Mostly, Yuuri struggles not to fall apart.

When they aren't eating, sleeping, or being tested, the prisoners are sent to a large yard where they are forced to go on runs. Yuuri hates running, but he was never bad at it, so he manages not to pass out from exhaustion. After the runs are completed, the prisoners are left in the yard to dawdle. Then everyone gets to know each other. Mostly through fights and games.

Group dynamics being what they are, clear leaders emerge. A Chinese man tends to pick fights with bigger guys and wins every time, so he amasses a small following. A Korean woman, tiny and placid-faced, easily lands men three times her size flat on their backs within seconds. A pair of Indian siblings who never leave each other's sides befriend everybody in the yard.

Yuuri never joins these battles. He stays far away from everybody, hiding in the corner and thinking about what he can do. If he can get his hands on a computer or a phone, he might be able to send a message to someone, or at the very least, find a virus to destroy the Velenos databases.

Yuuri wants some kind of revenge for his kidnapping. If he is going to die being converted into a Circle, then he wants to take down these monsters. He has no idea if anyone will save him. He has to find another way to survive, or take the Velenos Corporation to hell with him.

Alone and miserable, Yuuri holds onto that feeling of rage. It keeps him from crying at night while the guards stationed at his back take bets on which prisoners will die first. It feeds him more than the gruel he forces down every day.

It isn't hope, but it keeps Yuuri alive.

~*~

All too soon, the soldiers slap handcuffs around Yuuri's wrists and guide him, alongside the rest of the prisoners, onto several buses. The bus has no windows, and Yuuri is left to stare at the floor, listening to the whispered conversations around him while keeping an ear out for any Russian words. The soldiers escorting them say little, though.

His new glasses bother him. They're plain, made of black plastic, and they're a little too big, sliding off his nose if he tilts his head too far forward. He doesn't want to make an issue about them, though, because at least he can see now. He doesn't want attention from any of the soldiers or staff that are looking after the prisoners.

He needs to keep his head down.

After a very long drive, the bus stops. Yuuri stands when ordered and follows the queue of prisoners outside, where they are greeted with another military base, all of the buildings and signs nondescript. In the distance, snow-capped mountains rise above the landscape. To the south lies a deep blue body of water, dulled under the cloudy sky. The clouds have begun to turn orange, protecting the glimmering sun as it sets in the distance.

Magadan is much colder than the other base. Snow still blankets the ground here, and Yuuri shivers in his thin grey jumpsuit, unconsciously stepping closer to the man in front of him to avoid the freezing wind. More buses pull up and unload prisoners, even more than the number who had come with Yuuri from the other base. Yuuri tries to figure out how many there are; there must be hundreds of prisoners now.

"Single file lines," a harsh voice calls out, and Yuuri reluctantly steps into place behind the next person, looking across the pavement at the source of the voice.

A shiver runs through his body, eclipsing horror. In front of the prisoners stands the white-haired man Yuuri saw in Japan, who murdered someone with just a flick of his wrist and stared at Yuuri with glowing blue eyes. At the moment, his eyes are a dark, murky color, almost as gray as the darkening sky. Yuuri quickly drops his gaze when the man's hard gaze skirts over him.

Yuuri has not forgotten about him. He sometimes wakes in the night, fearing a flash of glowing blue eyes. He still has no idea what the blue eyes mean, when every Circle he has ever encountered has green eyes. Sometimes he questions his own memory of the glimpse, worrying that stress made him see something that wasn't there, but... somehow he doubts it. Viktor never mentioned other types of Circles, in those weeks where they reviewed the journals together, but that doesn't mean they do not exist.

"I am Captain Peter Malakhov," says the man, standing tall with his hands behind his back. "I am the commanding officer of this regiment. You will answer to me and any person with a green circle on their chest." At least a dozen more people stand behind him, all with green circles pinned onto the front pocket of their uniforms, and Yuuri shudders a little.

He has little doubt what those people are.

"You will follow all orders. Those who resist will be punished. Repeated infractions will be granted death. You will be trained to become soldiers. If you fail, then you will die." Malakhov stares across the crowd of prisoners, who have been hushed to silence. Yuuri dares not breathe for a moment, aware that the soldiers now in charge of them are Circles like Viktor and Yuri, and that they can hear the prisoners' heartbeats.

Surely everybody's hearts are beating as fast as Yuuri's is.

"You will work hard, and you will not complain. Those who prove capable will be rewarded. Those who prove foolish will be punished." Malakhov takes a clipboard from another Circle and glances at it. "You each have a number on your sleeve. When I read your number, you will join your new commanding officer. That person will instruct you on all future duties."

"First, with Commander Aristova..."

Yuuri stares at the ground as numbers are called. Hesitantly, he glances at his sleeve at the number that was given to him a week ago, waiting in dread for his number to be called. After each group is completed, made of at least forty prisoners, a Circle leads them away to one of the brick buildings facing the mountains. After four groups have been called, Yuuri's name is the first stated, and he walks slowly to stand in front of his new commanding officer, Commander Salkovich.

"Line up behind me," mutters the broad, blond man, and Yuuri shuffles behind him, nervously pushing up his glasses.

When forty numbers have been called, Salkovich gives Malakhov a salute and starts walking away in long strides. Yuuri hurries to follow him, the rest of his small group trailing after. Salkovich leads them to the second brick building, up a flight of stairs, and to a long hallway.

"Three to a bunk. Women together. You, in here," Salkovich orders, pushing Yuuri's shoulder. His accent is worse than Viktor's, and Yuuri can barely understand his English. Yuuri hesitates, glancing behind him, then ducks into the first room, where a bunk bed, a single bed, and a single dresser with three drawers sits. Gingerly, he takes the single bed and sits down, waiting as two more people follow him in.

The handcuffs clink in his lap. The other two people in his room, a boy hardly older than Yurio and an older Chinese man, exchange glances before they stand beside each other against the wall.

After the prisoners are put into their new bunks, Salkovich shoulders his way into the room and pulls out a device that unlocks each of their handcuffs. He grumbles when he has to lean over Yuuri to release him, and Yuuri flinches at his closeness.

"Each of you gets one drawer," Salkovich says, pointing at the dresser, then stepping back into the hall. "Your clothes and schedule are there already. Don't try to run," he orders, glaring harshly, and Yuuri barely twitches, rubbing his wrists.

"You will stay here until dinner." Salkovich adds, before he lumbers out of the room and shuts the door. The lock sliding into place makes them all flinch.

"Guess we're all in this together," mutters the man, older than Yuuri with a short beard. "Call me Xia Huan."

"Adrian Tan," says the boy, then adds, "I'm from Singapore." He looks ready to defend himself, but Huan only laughs, his mouth twisting in a bitter grimace. He glances at Yuuri, waiting for his name as well.

"Yuuri." He lowers his gaze after he gives his name. "Japan." Huan seems to be the type of guy to take charge, and Yuuri is more than ready to let him. He doesn't want to take care of anything.

They all eye each other nervously, before Huan snorts. "You can have the top bunk," he tells Adrian, sitting down on the bottom bunk and laying back against the lumpy pillow. Adrien looks upset for a moment, then shrugs it off and climbs up to the top bunk.

Yuuri remains quiet, not interested in making conversation. Instead he slides open one of the drawers, which reveals a stack of gray jumpsuits, t-shirts, and sweatpants, all of them cheaply made by the feel of them. On top of the stack of shirts is a small black book, which Yuuri picks out and opens.

Adrian leans over the edge of his bunk. "What is that?"

"Rules," Yuuri replies after a moment, flipping through the pages. "A daily schedule, too."

Huan reaches over to open another drawer, then the bottom one, tossing one of the black books up to Adrian, who begins to read. After a moment, Adrian curses loudly in Mandarin, which makes Huan laugh and reply in the same language.

Yuuri leaves them to it, vaguely irritated that they share a language he doesn't speak. At least he speaks Russian, which will be valuable for the time he is here. He intends to keep his head down and do what he is told, so long as he can try to gather information.

The schedule looks brutal. They are required to wake up at the crack of dawn for exercising, with short meal breaks throughout the day. The description of each entry in the schedule is extremely limited, with only _Exercise_ and _Training_ listed. On Fridays, they have _Testing_ all morning, and Yuuri dreads what that might entail.

He still remembers the soldiers from the other base, laughing about the prisoners killing each other.

Yuuri shakes his head a little, skimming through the rules and frowning at them, then setting the book beside his pillow. He closes his eyes and listens to Adrian and Huan speak for a while, trying to sort through the few words of Mandarin that he knows. Maybe they will be willing to teach him.

Hours later, after a flavorless meal that he barely ate, Yuuri lies in bed on his side, hunched under a single blanket. The window has no shade over it, allowing moonlight to stream into the room, casting long stripes on the floor through iron bars. If Yuuri turns his head a little, he can see the sky through the bars. The moon is full tonight, strong gales pushing clouds across its bright light. Somewhere, a metal shutter rattles from the force of the wind.

He hunches a little, tugging his blanket closer to his neck. It does little to keep out the cold.

~*~

Physical training is horrible. Yuuri is not in the best of shape, so being forced to run at six in the morning drains him and leaves him exhausted. Salkovich and the other Circles get nasty if anyone falls behind, though, so Yuuri pushes himself to keep going, vaguely grateful for the two weeks of being forced to run at the previous base.

He isn't strong or fast, but he isn't the worst of the prisoners. Yuuri avoids punishment like the plague, keeping his head down and pushing himself just hard enough to stay alive and well under the radar.

The food is as tasteless as can be. Yuuri chokes it down anyway, drinking as much water as he can to wash away the grit on his tongue. He is vaguely tempted to starve himself, and more often than he cares to admit, he winds up thinking about that last meal he had in Japan, of the food he threw up out of anxiety. White rice and pickles. In comparison, the bland porridge disgusts him.

His belly has lost most of its flab. He has lost weight, and he is still not sleeping well. The physical training gets easier after a while, but Yuuri feels ill all the time, unhealthy in a way he has never felt before. He misses Hasetsu. He misses Japan and real food; he misses Hasetsu and Makkachin. He misses Yurio and Viktor.

He misses Viktor _so much_ it hurts. When Yuuri has worn himself out from worrying, he falls into daydreams of being with Viktor, of living in a faraway place with sunshine and warmth and safety. He thinks about making it through the horrible future set for him, imagining that nothing bad will happen to him, that Viktor will save him, and that they will escape the Velenos Corporation's brutality.

He tries so hard to believe in that, because otherwise, he would want to die. He may die from becoming a Circle anyway, but... Yuuri has to believe in surviving, even if he hopes that Viktor never comes back to this awful world.

As Yuuri understands it, the training is intended to prime their bodies in preparation for the transformation into a Circle. In six weeks, the prisoners will be sorted into new groups that will focus on individual strengths. He doubts anybody else has gathered that much, given that Yuuri figured it out by spying on the Circles' conversations in Russian.

The Circles don't bother hiding what they are. Though the guards that watch over the prisoners and patrol the base are normal people, if particularly strong, the dozen or so Circles that strut around and command the squadrons are obviously superhuman. They are stronger and faster than any of the prisoners, and they make it obvious that they are listening to all of the prisoners' conversations. Often, their abilities remain active all day, the glow of their eyes leaving everyone filled with dread. If Yuuri wasn't somewhat used to it from Viktor and Yurio, he would be much more afraid. Some of the prisoners even call the Circles demons, which is not far from the truth.

Those prisoners usually get punished badly, though. Yuuri makes sure not to say anything if he can help it.

He listens, even as he settles into a dull cycle of training, worrying, and sleeping. The soldiers who walk by their rooms on nightly patrols do not speak, but Yuuri catches bits of conversation in the mess hall and during training. His commander, Salkovich, talks very little, but four of the other Circles always congregate during meals to gossip.

Mostly they talk about music and news, but occasionally, Yuuri catches whispered words about a "traitor." He hears about it the first time a week into this new life, sitting at the next table over as he picks at his potatoes.

"They say the traitor's come back to Russia," whispers Commander Aristova, a tall woman with brown hair tightly braided against the nape of her neck. Yuuri has never seen her without glowing green eyes. "They saw him south of Khabarovsk."

"Where we got the new recruits from?" another Circle asks, but the conversation is interrupted by a loud bang across the room, as a fight breaks out between a small crowd of prisoners. The Circles quickly rise to deal with it, leaving Yuuri sitting frozen in his seat, relieved that they paid no attention to him.

Yuuri stares down at his meal, clenching his fork tightly. The traitor. Could it really be...? Who else would have left Russia and come back, that the Circles would speak of?

_Viktor._

He forces himself to start eating when Adrian bumps into his shoulder, gesturing to Huan as they talk. He needs to stay calm. If the "traitor" is actually Viktor, then getting himself in trouble will do him little good.

He worries, though. Viktor should have run away with Yurio. He wanted Viktor to escape this hell.

Surely it isn't him.

As much as Yuuri worries about it being Viktor, he cannot deny the hope that blossoms in his chest, fierce in its ache. If the traitor is Viktor... then Yuuri has a chance. He just has to keep his head down until Viktor finds him.

With a small sigh, Yuuri decides to keep an eye on the soldiers and their habits, to try and figure out what their watch schedule is like. Every solder, other than the Circles, carries at least one gun and knife, and all of them are at least half a foot taller than Yuuri and weigh twice as much.

He probably isn't going to be able to fight his way out of here, but he might be able to sneak away.

Each group of prisoners sleeps in one of the brick buildings, in narrow rooms that allow for no privacy, with a connected mess hall and a guarded hallway that connects all of the brick structures to another, larger building. The doors to their rooms are heavy iron with screened windows, and the single window in each room is barred. The entire base is surrounded by electric fences, armed guards patrolling the borders. The prisoners are escorted everywhere, and they are not allowed to walk around freely. The only period of time that they are free from Circles looming over their shoulders is the one hour period every day where they can do whatever they want within a large gym.

It is here that Yuuri makes his first friend.

She finds him first. Yuuri has taken to sitting against the wall near one of the corners, where people rarely venture. Most of the other prisoners spend their time playing basketball or picking fights, which Yuuri has no intention of approaching. He mostly uses the time to think about the knowledge he has collected about the buildings and the soldiers. He never stops planning.

Two weeks into Magadan, Yuuri looks up from his contemplation of the floor when he hears a throat clearing in front of him. He finds the Korean woman who was with him at the last base, who emerged as something of a leader amongst the prisoners. She has retained a good position with everybody, often soothing those who have been hurt or need comfort, even stepping in to protect a group of women who were being hit on by some of the male prisoners.

She smiles at him when their eyes meet. "I am Ji-eun," she says, holding out her hand. Yuuri cautiously reaches up to shake it, wondering what she wants.

"I'm Yuuri," he replies quietly.

Without an invitation, but with an easy smile, Ji-eun sits down next to Yuuri. "I was talking with your roommate Adrian. He said you are always over here alone."

Yuuri wants to roll his eyes but doesn't. For somebody who is stuck in imprisonment with the possibility of impending death, Adrian has far too much energy for Yuuri to keep up with him. "I'm not very good with people," Yuuri says after a moment, sighing under his breath.

"Not many of us are," Ji-eun replies. "You remind me of my cousin in Korea. He is bad with people, too. But he is popular with his fans, somehow. He is a figure skater," she explains, catching Yuuri's curious look. "I always liked watching him on the ice."

Yuuri sits up a little, curious. He hasn't followed figure skating in years, but he listens to Yuuko and Phichit's chatter enough that he knows about the current competitors a little. "Do you mean Seung-gil Lee, perhaps?"

Ji-eun's eyes light up. "You know him?"

"Mm, my friends follow figure skating. And I sometimes skate too," Yuuri explains, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. Then he frowns a little, curious. With a famous family member, Ji-eun should not have been taken into the program... based on what he knows of Velenos' criteria for the Circles.

"I haven't spoken to him in a long time," Ji-eun says, oblivious to Yuuri's thoughts. "He is always training and traveling, but I still watch his competitions. I wonder if he knows I'm missing."

Yuuri shakes his head a little. "They try to take people who won't be missed, usually. To avoid..." He nearly bites his tongue a second later, horrified at himself. He catches Ji-eun's stare and glances past her, where two of the Circles are leaning against a wall, keeping an eye on the prisoners. Neither of them are looking at him, so they must not be paying attention to their conversation. Ji-eun follows his gaze, then looks back at him sharply.

Yuuri shakes his head a tiny bit, his heart beating faster. Ji-eun finally looks forward again, her lips pursing in contemplation. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Ji-eun reach up to her ear, tapping a few times as she watches the Circles.

Yuuri gives another tiny nod, dropping his gaze to the floor. Ji-eun breathes out, and it sounds nervous to Yuuri. "Well, that's not surprising," Ji-eun says after a moment, her voice a little softer, as if their conversation was never paused. "I moved out of my parents' house when I was fifteen. They didn't care. But Seung-gil might."

"There's no telling," Yuuri says quietly, thinking hard. He has little idea what is happening outside their prison. He wonders if he has been reported missing, or branded a traitor. It all depends on what the police found.

After that, Ji-eun starts sitting with him during meals, chatting to Adrian and Huan with ease. Yuuri never speaks much, too focused on listening, and always, Ji-eun watches him, curiosity in her bright gaze.

Four weeks into Magadan, Yuuri is contemplating the last of his beans with disgust. At the next table over, the Circles are talking in Russian without care.

"What do you think about Khabarovsk?" asks Aristova, leaning in toward her friends. "I can't believe someone broke into it and let the prisoners loose. All of them, gone. Half the building was destroyed, and they didn't get anyone on camera."

"It's obviously him," another Circle says, not bothering to lower her voice. "It's Vik--"

Salkovich grunts. "Don't talk about that traitor here. Peter will kill us."

That leaves all of the Circles silent, while Yuuri finds himself unable to breathe. _Viktor._ Viktor is coming -- Viktor is following him, though how he even knew where to find Yuuri is beyond him. Yuuri has to bite down on a smile, followed by cold fear washing through him. If Viktor is coming, then he is in danger. How will he even reach Yuuri?

He looks up to see Ji-eun watching him. She glances at the Circles, then at Yuuri again. He stares back at her, heart beating fast in his chest, wondering how much she has noticed.

'You understand them,' Ji-eun mouths, and ever so slowly, Yuuri nods, then quickly looks back at his plate. After that, nothing more is said of Viktor, the traitor, or the destroyed Velenos base, much to Yuuri's frustration.

~*~

Five weeks into their stay at Magadan, Ji-eun approaches Yuuri during free time. He isn't the first; she has been moving around the gym with quiet ease, talking in low tones to those who haven't marked her as an enemy. Yuuri has been watching her, half curious about her intentions. It has been two months since he last saw Viktor and his family, and still Yuuri has hardly any friends. He gets along with his bunk mates and Ji-eun, but few other people bother to approach him, seeing him as weak or boring.

That is more than fine with Yuuri, who is one of the few to avoid punishment so far.

Ji-eun appears, kneeling down next to Yuuri and leaning back against the concrete wall, her eyes on the two young men picking a fight on the other side of the room. Yuuri doesn't look away from his intense study of the scratches on the floor.

What she whispers shocks him into paying attention.

"If you want to run, be awake at two tonight."

A frisson of anxiety jolts through Yuuri, making him tense, and he almost runs away. Instead he glances at her out of the corner of his eye, his mouth tightening. "Escape?" he whispers back. She looks at him briefly, then away.

"We will try," Ji-eun replies, near silently. Then she stands and leaves him alone, to worry over what will happen and how. He wonders what she is planning, but he doubts she will reveal it, not with the Circles in the same room. At this point, most of the prisoners are aware that the Circles can hear everything they say no matter how quietly they say it.

Yuuri swallows and stares down at the ground. A chance. He doesn't know what her plan might be, but she has talked to enough people that it might just work.

Or they could all die.

Yuuri has to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note** : I have changed Peter's eyes from yellow to blue as of May 9, 2018. This will stand for future chapters as well.
> 
> Ahh! An update! I'm so sorry for the wait. I had to put this and my other WIP on hold while working on BBOI... but I'm back now! Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews and support. ♡
> 
> Thank you to moonbelowsea and merigold for your awesome beta-ing skills. Also, special thanks to Bee for helping me out!!


	11. refracting light

After the lights shut off, leaving him lying in darkness, Yuuri finds he cannot rest. His eyes keep fluttering open, glancing up at the window, where the stars twinkle, tiny beacons in a cold realm. His head begins to hurt after a while, and he buries himself deeper into his flimsy pillow and blanket, his mind drifting.

Yuuri doesn't want to do this, yet he sees no other choice.

The future seems bleak. With this escape attempt, they could die. They could be caught and tormented, then forced into the Circle transformation anyway. Or, somehow, Yuuri could escape... and then what? He is in the middle of Russia. The town police would be on the alert for escaped prisoners, especially if they have been paid off by the Velenos Corporation. Yuuri will have to make his way to another town, somehow.

He doesn't know how to hotwire a car, and he doubts he could manage to steal anything. If Yuuri could get his hands on a computer, he could try to get a message to someone, but he would still need to find a way to survive.

Yuuri cannot imagine it. Yet Viktor and Yurio lived on the run for months before they came to Yuuri. If only Yuuri had asked them more questions and learned from them... maybe he would have a better plan.

If others escape and survive, like Ji-eun, then maybe Yuuri can stay with them. They can escape together.

At least the temperatures are not frigid any longer. The faint warmth during the day speaks of spring, but Yuuri is aware that they are much further north than he has ever traveled. The soldiers refuse to tell them the date. Yuuri has tried to keep track of the passing time, but he is unsure. He believes it has been two months since he was kidnapped, but he may be wrong.

Too much is uncertain. Yuuri swallows down on a shaky sigh, not wanting to wake Huan and Adrian.

 _Viktor._ If Viktor is coming for him, then how can Yuuri reach him? The thought of Viktor storming the base and finding him makes Yuuri tremble for a moment with longing. To turn and see Viktor striding across the ground toward him... Yuuri can imagine it. He can almost feel Viktor's arms around him, reassuring him that everything will be okay.

Yuuri has to hold onto that feeling, or else he won't believe in anything.

~*~

The plan starts just after two in the morning.

Yuuri sits up not long after the moonlight begins to spill across his floor. On the other side of the room, Huan opens his eyes, watching Yuuri as he moves silently around the room.

"You're going to die," Huan whispers. Adrian sits up halfway, staring down at Yuuri as well. Yuuri wonders how many people have heard about the plan; he hopes no one has told the guards.

Yuuri presses his lips together briefly as he slides his feet into his boots. "Better to die free than chained up like a dog," he throws over his shoulder, then goes to wait by the door. After a moment, Huan climbs out of bed, still wearing his fatigues, and Yuuri glances back at him in surprise.

"Don't want to die like a dog either," Huan says, leaning in close as he grabs his boots. Adrian scrambles down the side of the bunk bed, still dressed in his pajamas, then moves more slowly when Huan hisses at him. Huan gives Yuuri a look. "You're a quiet one, but you've got something up your sleeve. I'd rather follow you and that woman than wait here any longer."

Yuuri eyes him for a moment, glancing briefly at Adrian, then looks back at the door, listening closely. Four minutes tick by slowly, the three waiting in silence, before nearly silent footsteps approach the door. A few seconds later, the lock clicks open, and Ji-eun appears in the doorway. She takes in Yuuri's cell mates with a raised eyebrow but says nothing, nodding at the hallway.

Yuuri follows, his heart beating fast in his chest.

Ji-eun leads them downstairs, along with a dozen other people who have allied themselves with her. Yuuri stops cold when he lays eyes on a guard standing beside one of Ji-eun's roommates, an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"It's fine, I'm with you guys," the guard says, holding up his hands. His arm quickly returns to the girl's shoulders, and Yuuri realizes why the guard is working with them. He wonders briefly if the feelings between the guard and Ji-eun's roommate are real, or if she seduced him for this purpose. Whichever the case, it must be how Ji-eun got a key.

Yuuri shrugs off his brief terror and sighs, looking at Ji-eun.

"This is the plan," Ji-eun whispers, handing over a piece of paper that shows a crudely drawn map of the base. Yuuri takes it as the others crowd over his shoulders. "Yulian has keys to get us outside. There is an armory he can get us into, where we will secure weapons. Then we must make our way to this point, where we can escape through the wall." She points at the map, where the perimeter shows a part of the wall next to a creek that joins the river. The creek winds back toward the mountains.

Ji-eun's expression closes a little. "The problem is, the fences are electric, and the lights will give us away. Someone has to go through the hallway to the other building and turn it all off, in this room." She taps the map again, on a room a couple hallways away from the big doors that separate the rest of the base from the prisoners' ward. "Yulian has to open the armory for us. We need a volunteer who can turn off the electric."

She fixes Yuuri with a look, as Yuuri stares at the long hallway drawn on the map. He immediately understands who she means -- _him._ With his understanding of Russian and his technical knowledge, Yuuri has the best chance of making it to the room.

His heart sinks. He looks up at Ji-eun, whose gaze darkens with worry. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "Yulian has a keycard for the door. We'll wait for you."

Yuuri wants to protest. He shouldn't have to do this; it's way too dangerous. They should make Yulian go -- but then Yuuri wonders if he could get more information, if he can find a computer. Maybe he can hack their systems. Maybe he can download a virus or two, if they're connected to the internet.

Maybe he can get a message to Viktor.

"Okay," Yuuri whispers, holding out his hand. Yulian sets the keycard in Yuuri's hand, and it feels like a handcuff closing around his wrist.

Yulian takes him alone. Yuuri takes the map and a copy of some login information from Yulian, clutching the keycard all the while. As they cross the darkened path, Yuuri glances at him, unsure why this man would be helping them. Yulian catches his stare and frowns. "What is it?" Yulian whispers. They pause outside the hallway to the other building, and Yuuri swallows, unsure what will await him on the other side of that door.

"Why help us?" Yuuri asks simply.

Yulian is silent for a moment. "My cousin was picked for this program. She died a few years back. I cannot let people keep dying."

Yuuri starts at that, then flicks his gaze up to Yulian. "We could die tonight."

Yulian shrugs. Several weapons are strapped to his belt and body. Yulian notices his stare and reaches to his hip, unclipping a knife and holding it out to Yuuri. "If we try our best, nobody has to," Yulian whispers, then straightens and carefully peers through the window in the door. "It's clear. Go, now."

Yuuri hooks the keycard around his neck, swipes it through the lock, and goes.

The hall is thankfully empty. Yuuri clutches the knife in his hand, his heart beating fast. What he is about to do is insane. Yet Yuuri has made peace with that fact, just as he has made peace with all of his decisions. Every day he has decided to keep his secrets and continue to work against his own government. Every day he has decided to do his best to protect people who suffer like Viktor and Chatchom and Yurio. Every single day, Yuuri has decided to fight for what's right, and that means continuing to survive, no matter how dangerous it may be.

This is no different, though Yuuri knows he doesn't have the training for it. He can only hope that he can make it out alive.

Yuuri glances at the map in his hand, then approaches the first intersection, which is still empty. He carefully leans around the corner and breathes out, seeing no one in the hallway. All of the doors are closed, but ahead is another intersection. He has to make it past that, and then he can reach the utility room.

Yulian told them that the officers and soldiers all sleep in another building, and that the nighttime crew is limited. Yuuri should be safe to reach the utility room without seeing anybody.

Absently, Yuuri reaches out to test the door knobs as he passes them. If he has to find a computer after he shuts down the power, maybe one of these rooms will have one.

To Yuuri's luck, one of the doors opens under his hand, and cautiously, he glances inside. The room is dark, but a few sources of light let him see what's inside -- a large table surrounded by chairs, with a desk and a computer against the wall.

Yuuri's lips curl up in a grin. _Perfect._

He carefully closes the door again and continues on his way, glancing at the map frequently and listening for any sign of footsteps. No alarm has been raised yet, which means that his co-conspirators are still hiding. They are waiting for the power to go out before they make their move and break into the armory.

When Yuuri reaches the hallway, his heart rate doubles, because around the corner, he can see two soldiers talking. Yuuri flinches back out of sight, gripping his map tightly. What if they come near him? Should he turn back?

His panic doesn't last for long, though, because the two soldiers turn away and head down the hall. When Yuuri realizes their footsteps are receding, he peeks out to watch them until they have disappeared around another corner. Yuuri breathes out in terrified relief, glances at his map, and continues on.

The utility room requires the keycard. Yuuri slips inside as soon as the door opens, closing it as silently as possible, then looking around. The room is expansive with several rows of switchboards and electrical equipment. Yuuri looks around for any servers and doesn't find them, to his disappointment. They might be in another room down the hall. He hesitates, then ducks down the first aisle, hesitant to touch the humming equipment. The charge in the room is making the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

The warnings and labels are all in Russian. The first thing Yuuri does is consider how much he can sabotage. A lot, as it turns out. He briefly thanks his old boss for letting him mess around with circuit boards and old radios.

 _No need to give them any help,_ Yuuri thinks, wishing he had some wire cutters. If he wanted to be thorough, he should overload everything, which would certainly shut down the main power. That would take time, though, and Yuuri needs to be quick. There is probably a back-up generator, but judging by the wiring leading to the generator room, Yuuri doubts that it will hold enough power to handle more than the lights.

Next, Yuuri finds the board covering the inmate houses. Rows and rows of tiny lights standing for the inmates' doors, able to be unlocked automatically. If Yuuri does this, all of the doors will open, freeing everybody. Yuuri barely hesitates, flipping the switches to the locks. Most of them are asleep, but as soon as the alarms go off, they'll wake up and be able to run.

As far as Yuuri can tell, the electric fences and weapons that protect the base are on the main grid, while only the alarms, lights, and servers are on the backup grid. If Yuuri can blow the power, he can make it much easier for everyone to escape and still be able to get into the network. He hopes, anyway. It may all shut down completely, since some of the equipment is very old and rusted.

Yuuri finally makes his way to the main breaker, scanning the labels beside the different levers. This switchboard is an older prototype and is much easier to navigate than a modern one. He wonders briefly what year it was made, then shakes his head of his curiosity. He needs to find the switch for the power grid that controls the electric fences.

As soon as he throws it, he needs to run.

Yuuri tenses, thinking of the long hallway between him and the room with the computer. It was the second to last door before the corner. He won't be able to outrun a Circle, but the soldiers shouldn't notice him, if he's fast.

Hopefully the Circles will go after the other prisoners once the riot starts. Yuuri reaches for the lever, then pauses, an idea coming to him. He glances around and spots a toolbox sitting on a table near the wall. His heart leaps in hope.

Inside the box is exactly what Yuuri needs: a heavy hammer, slightly rusted, but made of sturdy steel, along with a pair of work gloves. Yuuri pulls on the gloves and hefts the hammer, tucking the knife into his pocket, and heads back to the switch, reaching for it again.

He breathes in, then pulls the switch down. The humming all around him fades suddenly, seconds before the backup generator switches on, flooding the room with lights much dimmer than before. Yuuri lifts the hammer and brings it down hard on the switch.

It takes a couple of heavy bangs before the switch breaks off completely. Yuuri gasps and stumbles back from the force, nearly dropping the hammer, but he holds onto it. Then he turns and runs for the door.

Nobody is in the hallway, but Yuuri hears shouting in the distance. Alarms are blaring somewhere, and Yuuri takes off running down the hall, skidding to a stop before he passes the corner. He glances around and sees soldiers running toward the main doors. They are shouting about the inmates. Yuuri takes a deep breath, then darts across the intersection, praying that no one sees him. He grabs onto the door handle that houses the computer he saw and throws himself inside, shutting the door behind him and locking it with shaking hands.

An exhilarated laugh bubbles up in Yuuri's throat as he leans back against the cool metal. He did it. He really did it.

He cannot relax yet, though. Yuuri still needs to get into their computers.

Yuuri ducks across the room and settles into the computer chair at the desk. He taps his fingers nervously as he waits for it to boot, glancing frequently at the door. After he logs in, he sets to hunting out the information he wants.

Fortunately for Yuuri, and unfortunately for the Velenos Corporation, the internet is hooked to the back-up generator -- which means that he can upload whatever files he wants. Yuuri copies everything on the first drive he sees and enables a port, setting up the stream of information to one of the Crispino siblings' private file servers. Michele will probably shut it off soon, but Yuuri should be able to send him enough data to fuel their release about the Green Circles. He also drops a message on one of his old forums that he used to exchange information with Sara, once upon a time. No more than a couple lines, because Yuuri needs to hurry.

While the data streams, Yuuri searches through the files for any information that might provide useful. The prisoners' information is being uploaded to the server, so Yuuri pays little attention to that, instead focusing on documents containing what appears to be future plans. He doesn't find enough, though; just statistics about chemicals and numbers. He doesn't have enough time to study the graphs and tables to decipher what it all stands for.

To Yuuri's disgust, he finds nothing about Viktor. He wonders if Viktor is known to the database under a pseudonym or an identification number. He doubts this computer has the clearance he needs, so Yuuri sighs and focuses on another goal.

Within minutes of the upload finishing, Yuuri finds the worst virus he knows of and downloads it onto the computer. He takes a couple moments to wipe the admin logs, then opens up the virus, knowing it will go for every computer on the intranet that it can reach.

He stands up, his heart beating faster. The virus will take care of the computer's drive. Now, he really should...

Something bangs against the door, and Yuuri's heart jumps to his throat. He grabs the hammer and ducks down to hide underneath the desk, hunching back as he waits. Maybe someone was just passing by.

His hope dies in his throat when the door slams open, light spilling across the floor. "Who is in here?" calls a sharp voice in Russian, and Yuuri covers his gasp, hoping desperately that the intruder is not a Circle. A moment passes, and Yuuri hears heavy footsteps, boots like the soldiers wear. "I can hear you, little bird," the voice continues menacingly, and Yuuri abruptly realizes that he recognizes it.

His blood goes cold. He blinks, takes a breath, and stands up from under the desk, holding his hammer out in front of him. "Stay away from me," Yuuri says in clear, enunciated Russian, glaring into the bright blue eyes of Captain Peter Malakhov.

Malakhov pauses, visibly taken aback. His glowing gaze sweeps across Yuuri's thin, trembling form, then at the computer beside him, before narrowing slowly. "You speak," Malakhov says, not moving.

"Enough," Yuuri replies. The hammer feels steady in his hands, but his palms are sweating. He hopes dearly that he doesn't drop the weapon. "There is a riot, yes?"

"There is," Malakhov agrees after a moment. He seems more curious now, as if he is a large cat observing a half-dead mouse. Yuuri shudders and tightens his grip on his hammer, shifting back. The knife in his pocket shifts against his thigh, and Yuuri abruptly realizes he should have grabbed the other weapon.

Yuuri swallows slowly, not taking his eyes off Malakhov. "I just want to go home," he says, his voice breaking on the last word. Home means Viktor and Hasetsu. Yuuri can't ever go back to that gentle place, and he knows it.

Malakhov seems to know it too, snorting as he does. Tension eases out of his tall frame, and he steps forward, circling the table slowly. Yuuri bites back a whimper and stumbles back, going the opposite way. Maybe he can reach the door before Malakhov catches him. Malakhov snorts again, and in between Yuuri closing his eyes and opening them to blink away the sweat dripping down his face, Malakhov has moved across the room to stand in front of him.

Yuuri screams and bolts, but an iron grip wraps around his wrist and twists it, making him drop the hammer. Yuuri gasps at the pain that races up his arm, looking up at Peter in horror. This close, he can see Malakhov's pupils amidst the glowing blue of his eyes, and he bites down on his lip, thinking the lurid color is much more unsettling than Viktor's and Yurio's green eyes.

"Let me go," Yuuri begs, but Malakhov ignores him, turning to survey the computer. The screen shows a pop-up of the virus, a file locker that requires a monetary release. Malakhov presses a few keys, but the machine only locks down more. Yuuri hopes it erases everything in the base when it's done wreaking havoc.

He grabs onto Malakhov's hand and tugs, trying to dig his fingers underneath, but Malakhov's grip doesn't falter.

"You downloaded a virus," Malakhov says, almost curiously. Yuuri kicks at his side, but it does no good, and after a moment, Malakhov looks at him sharply. Yuuri bites back on his first reply, which is something very rude, when he realizes Malakhov wants a response.

"This place destroyed my life. It deserves to be destroyed, too."

Malakhov observes him for a long moment. "You are not scared of me," Malakhov says. Yuuri stares at him in bewilderment.

"Of course I am, you piece of shit," Yuuri sneers, using one of the rare curses that Yurio taught him while Viktor was away. His voice is shaking, yet Malakhov almost looks impressed. Yuuri has an idea then, and before he can think better, his free hand grabs at his waist for the knife handle. Malakhov's other hand snaps up, grabbing Yuuri's wrist and slamming him into the wall. Yuuri cries out, and Malakhov leans in close, holding his gaze.

Terror swells up. What if Malakhov wants to hurt him? The Blue Circle could easily break him. Yuuri doesn't understand why Malakhov hasn't murdered him yet.

The brilliant blue of Malakhov's eyes flairs a little, and this close, Yuuri can see tiny lines beneath his skin, following his veins in vectors. Yuuri can't help but stare, wondering if Viktor's eyes did that when they glowed. He can't remember.

Malakhov's lips twitch upward. "See? Not afraid. You have a warrior's spirit," Malakhov says, pulling away and striding across the room, dragging Yuuri behind him. Yuuri stares at his back, further confused. Shouldn't Malakhov be trying to kill him?

"What are you going to do with me?" Yuuri asks, his voice shaking.

Malakhov pauses at the door and glances over his shoulder. "You seem intelligent. What do you think you are here for?"

Yuuri holds his breath, then exhales, knowing a lie would be easily detected. Never mind that he has been lying since he came to this awful place. "You're going to turn us into soldiers. Like the green-eyed ones, and like you."

"Not like me," Malakhov corrects. "Not the rest of them, anyway, if they survive tonight. You, on the other hand... you are different. I do not know how yet, but I will find out. For now, I will have you come with me. If you are promising, then perhaps, you can be like me."

"I don't want to be like you," Yuuri blurts out, then covers his mouth, horrified. He is going to get himself killed.

Instead of being offended, Malakhov laughs. "My choice of words is poor. You will be like me, but you will be like you, too. We must be opposites for it to work."

Yuuri can't make heads or tails of what Malakhov means. "Opposites? I don't..."

Malakhov shakes his head and opens the door. "You will understand in time. Come with me before this place burns to ashes."

Unable to find a response, Yuuri stumbles as Malakhov pulls him into the hallway. In the distance, he can hear gunshots and screaming, and he shudders. Malakhov starts walking in the opposite direction, never letting go of Yuuri's wrist. "Wait -- aren't you going to help them? Your soldiers? This place is your responsibility."

Malakhov pauses at another door, his hand stilling on the handle. "Escapes have happened before and they will happen again. I don't care what happens to these people. I care about what happens to you, though."

Yuuri stares up at him, a shiver running through his entire body. What the hell does this man want with him? "You can't let them all die. They're innocent people. They didn't ask for any of this."

Malakhov considers him for a moment, and then something in his eyes _changes_. The vector lines in his skin brighten, and his irises shift to white, bright enough to hurt Yuuri's eyes. He flinches back, but the moment passes quickly. Malakhov exhales sharply with a grunt as if in pain, then glares at Yuuri.

"There. My subordinates will not kill them, now. Better?"

A shiver runs through Yuuri. He cannot comprehend what just happened. Did Malakhov just send a signal of some sort to the Green Circles? Because... Yuuri didn't want the prisoners to die? "What just happened? Your eyes..."

"As their captain, I have some power over them," Malakhov replies, watching Yuuri closely, perhaps for the terror that should be welling up in his throat. Yuuri tries to swallow down his dread, as well as his curiosity.

Viktor's eyes had not done that. Yuuri wants to know what it means.

"I don't understand, Captain Malakhov," Yuuri whispers.

Malakhov glances at him knowingly, then shoves the door open. "Call me Peter," he says, before dragging Yuuri into a room filled with guns and other devices Yuuri would rather not name. His spine goes stiff at the sight of the guns, but Peter bypasses them and pulls some handcuffs down from a hook on the wall. He relieves Yuuri of his knife and snaps the cuffs around his wrists, then gathers a few other tools and weapons and shoves them in a bag. Finally, Peter throws the bag over his shoulder and takes Yuuri by the elbow, leading him through the building again.

Soon they are walking out of the building, into a parking lot and over to a car. Yuuri looks over his shoulder at the burning base, his eyes wide, wondering if any of the people he has lived beside for weeks have survived. He sees people running in the smoke, and one of them pauses to look at him and Peter. Yuuri's heart leaps in his throat.

"Help!" he blurts out, then shouts it louder. "Help! Please!"

"They can't help you." Peter opens the car door and looms over Yuuri, until he sits down in the seat, one foot hanging out of the car. Yuuri's shoulders sink as he stares past Peter, then lifts his head and glares.

"Look," Yuuri says, at the end of his tether. All of his anger and fear of the past several weeks bubble up, escaping in snapping Russian, the sharp tones reflecting his fury well. "Why are you kidnapping me? You keep saying I'll know eventually, but I want to know _now_. Tell me why you are taking me. You don't know me, you don't know who I am --"

Peter interrupts him, and what he says makes Yuuri's jaw snap shut. "Katsuki Yuuri, Japan, sent by Koroba. Twenty-six years old, blood type A, height one hundred seventy-three centimeters. Physical tests range from sixtieth to eightieth percentile. Aptitude tests score in the ninetieth percentile. Genetic markers match 97%. With your current weight and physique, you have an 82% chance of surviving the process of cyborgization."

Peter's lips twitch into a faint smile, but his eyes remain cold. "Currently there are two special programs. The Green program, of which you have been a part until this point, and the Blue program, of which I am the only member. Because my abilities are too strong for one person to hold, I need a partner, and you fit the parameters. Thus I am taking you to become my partner."

Yuuri feels his world tilt. He wonders if he might be sick.

"Questions?" Peter whispers.

Yuuri stares up at him, his hands slowly clenching into fists within his handcuffs. He takes a deep breath, not breaking eye contact. "Just one." When Peter tilts his head in invitation, Yuuri swallows back bile. "Why am I special?"

"That is what I intend to find out," Peter replies, then glares pointedly down at Yuuri's foot until he pulls it into the car. Peter takes a moment to buckle Yuuri in, then tosses the bag in the backseat and moves away. The door shutting in Yuuri's face makes him close his eyes, fighting tears.

He doesn't acknowledge Peter as he slides into the driver's seat and starts the car.

 _Viktor._ Yuuri bites down on his cheek, desperate not to cry, but a tear escapes anyway, sliding down his cheek. Yuuri turns his head toward the window to keep Peter from seeing it. All of his plans and hopes, destroyed.

What is he supposed to do now?

~*~

One town away, Viktor stands in a dimly lit parking lot and considers his options. He needs a car that will keep him from being noticed but will survive a long distance when he escapes. Viktor glances toward the east, his lips tightening, then pulls out the two pairs of keys he stole from the unconscious guard at the edge of the lot, picking the newer model. Quickly he sets to unlocking his new car and changing license plates. As soon as Viktor has finished his preparations, he starts the car and drives off, heading east.

One more hour, and he will be at Magadan. Yuuri has to be there. If he isn't, if he has been hurt, then...

Viktor shakes his head of the negative thoughts, focusing on driving. For the past month, he has been tirelessly moving through Russia, hiding in halfway houses and abandoned farms as he made his way toward Magadan. Hasetsu and the warmth of Yuuri's home is a distant memory. At least Yurio has made it to Otabek, as Mila has reported.

Viktor destroyed Khabarovsk when he realized that Yuuri had already been sent to the next destination. Mila had been very interested in their databases, which had contained encrypted registries of their prisoners, but Viktor hadn't cared about that. All he cared about was reaching Yuuri, who was slipping out of his grasp all too quickly.

He barely sleeps anymore. His hair hangs limp against his neck, currently shoved beneath a woolen cap to avoid notice. Every other town, Viktor steals new clothes and a different car, changing plates and dyeing his hair and hiding. He is always hiding, because Russia is hunting for him.

Only the thought of saving Yuuri keeps him going.

Magadan will be on the alert, as Viktor has made no secret of his intentions to destroy all of the Velenos bases he gets his hands on. He has ripped apart two other bases that he came across, though they were merely storage facilities. Enough to irritate the Corporation and their spies, as well as gather what information he could, but not enough to make a dent in their production of war machines and soldiers.

Magadan, though... Magadan houses at least a thousand prisoners, all training to become Circles against their will. All adults, from sixteen to thirty-six, who match the genetic profile that Circles need to survive the procedures. Children are taken to a different base, so any adults that are chosen are sent to Magadan. Viktor suspects that other training facilities exist, but he has left the investigation into the databases -- already sent to Mila and Yakov -- to others.

Viktor's old entry codes do not work any longer, but he has other ways of breaking into high security military facilities. He need only reach Magadan, and then he can save Yuuri.

He does not dare imagine that Yuuri might be dead. He _can't._

Viktor wonders what kind of mental state Yuuri will be in. Alone and surrounded by enemies, in the very place he has feared for years... will Yuuri be able to handle the pressure? Have the soldiers hurt him? Has he kept his head down and survived the brutal physical training? Viktor remembers well his own training. It was hell for a child, and he doubts it would be any easier for a civilian adult.

He grits his teeth and drives.

Magadan rises up against the gray horizon as Viktor speeds down the road. He has seen no other cars, and out here, the only patrols would be run by the military or the local police. Curiously, Viktor has seen no military vehicles yet. When he gets his first view of the city proper, Viktor abruptly realizes why.

Smoke is rising from the base, far to the east of the city. Even from here, Viktor can hear the alarms, and he quickly revises his plans. Spending a day or two reviewing the base's defenses is no longer an option. If something has happened, then Viktor needs to be there, _now._

He presses down on the gas, taking back roads to avoid the city, further alarmed when the typical police cars never show up. They must all be in the city, alerted to whatever has happened at the base. The only thing to do is for Viktor to break in.

The base comes into view. The gates are ripped open, as if someone wrenched them open with inhuman strength. The typical hum of the electric fences that have irritated Viktor in the past is gone; he can see that most of the lights of the base are out, which means somebody has cut the power. Viktor flies through the gate and keeps driving, listening hard for voices, for the heartbeat he knows like no other.

He cannot hear it amidst the chaos, screaming and gunfire and people talking and several hundred heartbeats.

" _Any word from command?_ "

" _No, just the same as before. Stop the riots without killing the prisoners. Everyone's computers are fucked over there, so they're busy._ "

" _Shit. Where are Aristova and Salkovich?_ "

" _Salkovich is dead. Aristova left. The others..._ "

Viktor snarls, not caring where his old subordinates are. He dislikes that there are Circles here, but he will deal with them when the time comes. He can hear their hearts, four of them humming at various locations around the base.

He wants to know where Yuuri is.

Another voice, to the far south of the base, speaks in English. _"If we stay here any longer, we will die. We must run. Four of the green-eyed demons have left, and two of them have been killed. We cannot let them catch us,"_ says a woman. Viktor doesn't hesitate to swerve his car around, driving south, ignoring the confused shouts from soldiers who spot his vehicle.

When he reaches a parking lot, Viktor screeches to a stop and jumps out of the car, grabbing the one bag he keeps with him at all times. He shoulders it and turns to look at the two soldiers who approach him. When they spot his eyes, they snap salutes, then falter when they realize who he is.

"Captain Nikiforov?"

Viktor knocks them both out with a jab to the neck, before either can alert the rest of the base to his presence. He grabs the guns off both of them and tilts his head, listening until he locates several heartbeats clustered together. He takes off, leaping over a barricade of heavy metal waste bins, landing in the middle of a crowd of people in grey prison fatigues.

Several people scream and scramble back. A Korean woman turns on her heel and points a gun at him. Viktor glances past her, his eyes roaming over the prisoners -- thin, angry, scared -- but none of them are Yuuri. His heart sinking, Viktor begins to turn away, then wonders if he can find out what happened from these people.

"Stay back," the woman snaps, glaring. Viktor turns his gaze on her, studying her for a moment.

"I'm not here to hurt you. Frankly, I could care less. I'm here for one person. Katsuki Yuuri, have you seen him?" Viktor asks, keeping his voice even and polite, despite his urgency.

The woman visibly hesitates, her heart skipping at Yuuri's name, and Viktor abruptly realizes she knows Yuuri. His chest tightens with joy and fear. If he can convince her that he means well, then he can find out where Yuuri is. Then the woman cocks her gun, and Viktor pauses, wondering if she will shoot. He does not need an injury.

A beat passes, and a young man blurts out, "Aren't you Viktor Nikiforov?"

Viktor blinks, then holds up his arms in the universal pose for _I surrender._ "That's me," he says quietly, holding the woman's gaze, before letting the Circle circuits die down. As the green glow fades, several of the prisoners relax, now staring at him in morbid curiosity. "I betrayed my country and military. Right now I am here for one person. Katsuki Yuuri, a man from Japan, with glasses, about this tall," Viktor says, dropping his hand to show Yuuri's height. "He is... very dear to me. Please, do you know him? Is he alive?"

To Viktor's humiliation, his voice trembles on Yuuri's name.

The Korean woman stares at him for several beats, then lowers her gun a little. "How is he important to you? We're not going to betray one of our own."

Viktor takes a deep breath. "He is my lover," he says quietly.

The prisoners gape at him, one of them whispering, "Viktor Nikiforov and that guy?" Viktor's lips twitch at the description, wanting to hear more. He longs to know what has happened to Yuuri while he has been trapped here.

The woman hushes them with a hiss, holding Viktor's stare for a long moment, then takes in his worn clothes, dirty boots, and unkempt hair. She does not lower her gun, which Viktor can respect, but something in her expression eases after a moment. "My name is Ji-eun. Yuuri is not with us. He was..." The way she hesitates forms something cold and hard in the back of Viktor's throat. He closes his eyes, not wanting to hear it, but knowing...

"He was taken. We don't know why, but the blue-eyed demon kidnapped him," Ji-eun continues, and Viktor inhales sharply, stumbling back. "Huan saw him pushing Yuuri into a car... Are you alright?"

_The blue-eyed demon._

Viktor barely hears her as panic takes over. The only Blue Circle in existence is someone Viktor knows very well, someone he never wanted to see again. Viktor had hoped that Peter was still in Sochi, cleaning up the mess Viktor left for him last year, but if Peter is here...

Viktor strains his hearing, but he cannot hear Peter's telltale heartbeat with the other Circles. Peter must have fled, abandoning his subordinates and his training facility. He must have been here searching for a new partner, unless he was demoted for what happened last year. Still, for Viktor to come to the one place where Peter has been living... where Yuuri has been imprisoned...

Why would Peter take Yuuri? Why was Peter even here? Did Peter figure out that Yuuri knows Viktor? Is this some kind of revenge against Viktor for what he did? If Peter knew about Viktor's connection to Yuuri, then he would simply kill Yuuri; he would not play games like this. Yet why else would Peter take Yuuri...

_A partner._

"No," Viktor whispers, a tremble running through him, before he falls to his knees. If Peter has Yuuri, then the future is bleak. Yuuri has suffered _enough_ \-- why can't Viktor reach him?

Yet it also means that Yuuri is alive. Resolve reforms, bursting into place beside determination. Viktor looks up past the barrel of Ji-eun's gun, his eyes flaring green again. "I need to you tell me everything you know about Peter Malakhov and what he has done with Yuuri. I must save him."

Ji-eun stares down at him, then finally lowers the gun, her gaze hardening. "I will tell you everything, if you help us escape."

"As you wish."

~*~

Four hours later, every soldier in the compound is either unconscious or dead, the prisoners have fled, and Viktor stands alone in a room full of computers and screens, holding a phone to his cheek with his shoulder as he follows Mila's guidance.

"I am sorry, Mila. Everything with a standard operating system is dead or locked down. It looks like a virus has taken over," Viktor says quietly, reaching up to hold the phone properly. Beside his hand, a USB drive blinks rapidly as it scans the system. The screens above his head are blank or show static.

"Damn," Mila mutters. Viktor can hear her typing rapidly. "Ransomware, and a nasty one. Looks like someone tried to wreck their servers with it."

Viktor swallows. "You don't think Yuuri..."

Mila lets out a low noise. "It's possible. I don't know what all he's capable of, but he might have. Let me try a few subroutines..." She types some more, then lets out a small exclamation of triumph. "Okay, I can get into the logs. Someone with a soldier's login accessed one of the computers, uploaded a lot of data, and then downloaded the virus. They sent the data to a private server. I could try pinging it."

"Leave it for now," Viktor says, knowing Mila could lose herself in server hacking all night if she had the chance. "Can you get Yuuri's file?"

"Just a minute, lover boy," Mila says, then sighs. "Okay... I've got it. His aptitude tests, physical tests... he was doing pretty well in their training." Viktor lets out a low, angry noise, urging her to continue, and Mila scoffs. " _Okay_ , calm down. I'll copy it onto your drive before I wipe everything if you want to look at it later, but it doesn't show where he is. Just that he is part of the Blue program, updated two hours ago. It doesn't give a location."

Viktor closes his eyes. That accursed program, the one he has been fighting against for years... and now, it has Yuuri. "I suspect I know where he is... Sochi."

Mila is silent for a long moment. "That's where you rescued Yurochka from."

"Yes, it is."

"You still haven't explained exactly what went down," Mila says, sounding irritated. Viktor doesn't really care to explain; that is up to Yuri, who hates to think of what happened. "I love that boy, you know. He's like the kid brother I never got to have. You're saying that the man who took Yuuri is the same one who tormented Yurochka for three years? The same one you..."

With a sharp exhalation, Viktor glances at the USB's contents, then unplugs it, trusting that Mila has saved all the relevant files and locked out the virus. He has Yuuri's laptop; he can look over it later. "So it seems. In any case, Yuuri must have tried to copy the files before he destroyed everything. Perhaps you should contact his Italian friend to see if they received anything."

"Viktor --"

"I must go, Mila. Peter has had ten hours with Yuuri already, and I need to get to Sochi before anything happens to him. Take care." Viktor closes the phone and shoves it in his pocket, then leans over the computer terminal, closing his eyes tightly.

Once more, he must go back to that awful place. Will Viktor never be free of it?

Quickly Viktor shakes his head and grabs his bag. He pauses in one of the supply rooms and constructs a rudimentary bomb, carrying it through the compound as he makes his way back to the parking lot. He tosses the bomb into the first fire he sees and runs, his form blurring as he sprints across the empty base.

Behind him, the base explodes, and Viktor wastes no time in stealing a car and setting off west.

_Yuuri, hold on for me. I'm coming._

~*~

Yuuri wakes slowly, the pain in his head making him want to curl into himself further. He can hear the low murmur of Russian from a radio, barely audible over the hum of a car engine and the soft air blowing from AC vents. The radio show chatter, which is discussing the most recent news in rock music, reminds him of Viktor and Yurio for a moment. Yuuri never did fix the insulation in his house, so he often heard them talking in low tones as he was falling asleep.

"Viktor," he whispers without thinking. If Viktor were here...

A beat passes, and a deep voice asks slowly, "What did you say?"

Every nerve in Yuuri's body goes taut as Peter's menace seeps into his bones. He remembers, quite suddenly, that he is not at home. The last thing he remembers is getting caught and dragged away by Peter. He had fallen asleep while they drove... which he shouldn't have done, but he was just so tired. His hands are still handcuffed in his lap, and the back of his throat itches with thirst. The sky is cloudy, hinting at rain. Yuuri wonders how long they have been on the road.

Yuuri turns his head to look at Peter, flinching at the sight of him. Peter doesn't glance at him, staring straight ahead. His posture is rigid, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. He looks angry, and Yuuri can feel it now, his fury permeating the air. He remembers what slipped out of his mouth, and he cringes back, hoping Peter doesn't hurt him.

After a moment, Peter says, his voice level, "That name. Why did you say it?"

Yuuri swallows, not taking his eyes off Peter. "I was... dreaming. I'm sorry."

Peter's fingers flex on the wheel, drawing Yuuri's attention. "Why that name?"

Yuuri debates briefly how to answer. Circles can detect lies, and if he gives Viktor away here... Peter might kill him, and then go kill Viktor too. Yuuri cannot allow that. He closes his hands into fists slowly to steady himself, his face flushing uncomfortably. "Back in Japan, he's my... um..."

Peter snorts, and just like that, his grip on the wheel relaxes, and the tense air in the car eases to something that gives Yuuri the chance to breathe. "Ah, your lover. Do not mention that name again. I do not like to hear it."

Yuuri thinks he must be insane to speak after that, remembering well how the other Circles refused to talk about Viktor for fear of Peter's wrath. Yet he asks anyway. "Why not?" He immediately leans away, expecting Peter to grab at him, but Peter does nothing.

Instead Peter sighs deeply. He reaches for the dash, where a pack of cigarettes sits, and lights one, flicking the ashes out of the crack in the window. "There was a boy I used to watch over with that name. He grew up and betrayed me. I do not like to think of him. So, do not say that name again." The menace in the order makes the hair on the back of Yuuri's neck stand up.

Yuuri swallows, then nods slightly and reluctantly turns his head to look out the window, his heart beating fast. "Okay," he whispers, because Peter is someone who likes acknowledgement, and Yuuri doesn't know how else to react to what he said.

He must mean Viktor, _his_ Viktor. Yuuri knows little of Viktor's past, only that he was taken by the program at a young age. He wonders what sort of history lies between Peter and Viktor, then doubts he will ever know, if simply hearing the name offends Peter so much. Maybe if Yuuri meets Viktor again, he can ask... if he survives.

He hopes he survives. He wants to go home to Viktor and Hasetsu and the people he loves.

_Viktor, please..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note** : I have changed Peter's eyes from yellow to blue as of May 9, 2018. This will stand for future chapters as well.
> 
> Thank you to miss-meri and moonbelowsea for your awesome beta! Also, thank you to my server buddies for your advice and help!


	12. the deep, deep blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** This chapter contains a brief mention of suicide ideation, as well as graphic descriptions of medical torture and procedures involving needles and drugs. 
> 
> If you're hesitant about reading any of the above, please see the end notes for a brief summary that includes mild spoilers. Please keep in mind that doing so could spoil the whole chapter if you peek at the ending. (Don't peek at the ending! ❤️)

Yuuri stares out the window and broods.

Outside the car, Peter is filling the tank with gas. Yuuri is sorely tempted to throw open the door and make a run for it, handcuffs be damned, but Peter has moved to stand in front of Yuuri's door, as if sensing his intentions. Yuuri slumps back and covers his face with his hands, flinching when the handcuffs clink. He wishes Peter would leave him alone, long enough to escape, though he wonders how far he could run before Peter catches him.

A few moments pass, and Yuuri hears the click of the fuel cap as Peter finishes filling the tank. He tenses and looks up, surprised to see Peter walking away. Peter has a phone to his ear, talking into it, and Yuuri can only wonder what he is saying.

He could run. He could do it. If Peter is distracted enough...

At the door to the gas station, Peter pauses and looks over his shoulder. His eyes flash blue, and Yuuri goes stiff with fear, dropping his gaze. His mind unwillingly brings up that haunting memory of Peter slamming an innocent man to the ground and breaking open his head. Yuuri still has nightmares about that day; he will never forget it. Even if he runs, Peter will catch him.

When Peter gets back in the car, he dumps a plastic bag in Yuuri's lap. Yuuri blinks down at the bag and awkwardly shifts it open, spotting several packaged items of food and a bottle of tea. He didn't think Peter would even feed him, and he mutters his gratitude, torn between his manners and his anger. Peter locks the doors, catching Yuuri's scowl and shaking his head, then driving off. Yuuri spends the rest of the car ride glaring at the food in his lap.

He does eat some of it, though. It helps quell the ache in his stomach for a while.

Hours later, Peter drives them into another military base, and Yuuri's heart sinks. Reluctantly, he gives up on thinking of ways to escape, turning his focus to survival. For now, he must play the role Peter has given him, since he has few options. His hands have remained cuffed, and now he will be under surveillance.

All too soon, Peter pulls up to a guard station and leans out, flashing an ID. The soldier salutes. "Captain," the soldier says, glancing at Yuuri curiously. Yuuri hunches down in his seat, not wanting the attention.

"You should have your orders," Peter says mildly, and the soldier flushes, snapping back to attention.

"Sir, your aircraft awaits in hanger 3." The soldier hesitates while saluting, looking apologetic. "Um, sir, you should know that the main computers are down. Something about a virus in the network. They're working on it, though."

Peter's lips twitch downward, and Yuuri fights a smirk. That's one good thing, at least. "I see. Tell them I am here." Peter waits for the gate to open, then drives through, glancing at Yuuri, who refuses to speak to him. He stares out the window instead, observing the soldiers lined up in training, realizing that this must be a regular base. He wonders how many of these people know that Peter is a Circle.

They pull up to a massive hangar, where a gleaming military plane awaits outside, its engine rumbling. Four people are standing at the base of the stairs leading up to the plane. One of them is wearing a white coat, and the others are in uniforms. As Peter hauls Yuuri out of the car, his hand firmly on Yuuri's elbow, the woman in the white coat bustles forward, a frown on her face.

"Captain, may I see my patient?" she asks, her tone sharp, and Peter lets Yuuri go, shrugging.

"You can't do anything with him yet."

"He must be in top condition to begin the procedures. Open your mouth," she says to Yuuri, who stares at her blankly, uninterested in obeying. The woman makes a frustrated noise and repeats the instruction in English. Yuuri begrudgingly opens his mouth, allowing the woman to shine a flashlight over his tongue, then suffering through the same thing with his eyes. He ignores Peter's knowing look, relieved that Peter, so far, has not revealed that Yuuri knows Russian.

"Captain, the aircraft is ready for departure," the pilot salutes, the two other uniformed soldiers copying the movement. Peter nods and pushes at Yuuri's back, earning another scowl from the doctor.

"You can look at him on the plane. We must leave, now," Peter orders. Yuuri dares a glance over his shoulder, meeting Peter's dark eyes, then obediently climbs up the stairs. The doctor files in after them, followed by the soldiers.

The inside of the airplane is much nicer than Yuuri expected, looking more like a private plane than a military one. Peter leads them to the middle of the plane, where a large, reclining seat with straps on the arms is located. Yuuri grimaces, then reluctantly sits, as Peter takes hold of his shoulder and hands a small key to the doctor.

"I am Dr. Chakova," the doctor says in brusque English, unlocking Yuuri's handcuffs and guiding his arms to the straps. Peter works on strapping Yuuri in until he is secured. Dr. Chakova tosses the handcuffs aside and glares at Peter until he lifts his hands and walks away. Yuuri watches him go, then focuses on the doctor as she takes his vitals. "Blood pressure elevated, temperature within normal range. When did you last eat?"

"A few hours ago," Yuuri replies quietly. He doesn't trust her. Briefly, he wonders if he will ever trust a doctor again.

"It'll have to do," says Dr. Chakova, pulling out a stethoscope. Yuuri flinches when the cold metal touches his skin. "Heart rate elevated. Given the situation, it's to be expected. Nurse, get ready for the procedure when we are in the air."

One of the soldiers nods and heads to the back of the plane, while Dr. Chakova tucks her tools into a heavy briefcase at her feet.

"Has Captain Malakhov told you anything?" Dr. Chakova asks. Yuuri shakes his head, wanting more information, and Peter doesn't correct him on the small lie. "Then I will explain to you."

"Captain, we will depart in thirty minutes," says one of the pilots over the intercom.

"Make it twenty," Peter orders from the front of the plane. Yuuri twitches at the sound of his voice. "Doctor, when we are airborne, begin your preparations."

Yuuri grips the armrests of his chair, swallowing nervously. Dr. Chakova pauses to buckle herself in, then pulls out a tablet and flicks it on, typing on it. When Yuuri glances at the screen, he sees a picture of himself, and he grimaces. It must be his medical file. "Our corporation deals in tools of war," Dr. Chakova says. "Guns and tanks. More recently, special soldiers who will kill for their country. Through various trade agreements that remain secret to the larger public, we gather resources such as yourself and transform them into proper tools."

"That's horrible," Yuuri whispers, because it's no less than what he suspected.

Dr. Chakova glowers at him for the interruption, and Yuuri glares back, shutting his mouth pointedly. After a moment, Dr. Chakova continues. "There are the standard tools, what we call the Greens, which are deployed at will. In recent years, we have developed another prototype that we call the Blues. Captain Malakhov is one such example."

The silence from the front of the plane makes the hairs on Yuuri's arms stand up. He shivers and averts his gaze to one of the windows. Dr. Chakova tuts and raps his arm sharply, making Yuuri yelp and focus on her again.

"Do not look away when I am talking to you," Dr. Chakova snaps, and Yuuri bites down on his tongue, sorely tempted to use one of Yurio's rude epithets on her. He doesn't want to make Peter angry, though. "The Blues are a rare breed, capable of controlling the Greens. Two are optimal for the role, because merely one is unbalanced. For some reason, Captain Malakhov has chosen you to be his second. I hope you live up to the task."

Yuuri swallows back his fear. He always knew they intended to turn him into a Circle... but a now Blue Circle, like Peter, who seems just as strong and fast as Viktor. Yet the strange phenomenon Yuuri witnessed earlier, of Peter 'ordering' the other Circles... will Yuuri be able to do that, too?

He wishes he understood.

"Preparing for departure," says the pilot, and a moment later, the plane begins to move. Nausea wells up, bringing bile to the back of his throat, and Dr. Chakova frowns at him, before taking her bag from under her seat and picking through it. She pulls out a needle and a bottle of clear liquid, filling the needle halfway before setting the bottle aside. Then she takes Yuuri's arm and pulls it over, pushing up his sleeve to reveal the pale skin of his inner arm.

"What is that?" Yuuri asks sharply, and Dr. Chakova raps his arm again.

"Silence. This will keep you calm." She pulls on gloves and cleans his arm, her movements methodological and focused. Yuuri flinches when the needle slides into his skin, feeling the foreign drug enter his system and cringing. Within moments, his heart rate begins to calm, and the nausea building in his stomach eases.

"Do not be sick on me," Dr. Chakova tells Yuuri. He merely gives her another glare and looks away, grimacing as the plane turns onto the tarmac. His anxiety should be leaving every nerve on edge, but his thoughts are growing duller. Dr. Chakova leans over him, but Yuuri refuses to look at her.

She scoffs and leans back, turning to put her bag away. "I must have made the dose too strong. You will listen anyway."

Yuuri wants to roll his eyes. He notices Peter turning around to glance at them, but Yuuri doesn't look away from the window. The plane turns once more, then suddenly accelerates, and Yuuri shivers. He never did like flying; he prefers to be on the ground.

The plane lifts off, and Yuuri feels the press of gravity against his chest, hating how it feels to be lying on his back while flying. The medicine does wonders to keep him calm, so he focuses on Dr. Chakova when she speaks again.

"Once we land, we will begin the surgeries. The first procedure is the implantation of nanocytes, which will prime your body. You will have three surgeries total. The first is for your heart, where we will install a robotic extension to support your cardiovascular system."

Yuuri listens with an odd sort of curiosity. Denten Robotics probably supplied the heart extension, if Yuuri's research is correct. One day years ago, Viktor suffered through these surgeries. He was just a child then, barely old enough to know himself, let alone agree to become a tool for the government. Viktor never told him what exactly was done to him, but Yuuri could imagine it. Hearing it now from Dr. Chakova in such cold, clinical terms makes it all the more horrible. Yuuri wishes he could reach out to Viktor from years ago and reassure him that it will be okay.

He wants to believe it will be okay. Yuuri needs that reassurance, too.

"The second surgery will be on your spinal cord, to support the flow of information and blood. The last will be your eyes. You must have perfect vision, which we will correct. After the surgeries, you will be given the final serum, which will transform you. Following your survival, you will train with Captain Malakhov."

Yuuri closes his eyes, biting back his anger and fear. He doesn't want to become a Circle. He doesn't want to be like Peter. Yet none of what he wants can come true, now. Not unless Yuuri manages to escape, and he cannot imagine a way out. Peter would catch him no matter what he did, and if Yuuri tried violence... no. He does not want to be violent like the Circles. He does not want to kill anyone.

 _I should have killed myself instead,_ Yuuri thinks bleakly, swallowing back tears. Better to die free than become a tool of war.

Then he shakes his head abruptly, catching Dr. Chakova's attention. No, Yuuri mustn't think like that. No matter how horrible his situation is, he must never give up. He needs to believe in Viktor. Maybe... if he becomes a Circle, he can do some good for the world, like Viktor always did. He refuses to be like Peter and the other Circles, turning to violence and murder, doing what they are told for their country.

He will be better than them. He will be like Viktor.

"You may now unbuckle your seatbelts," the pilot announces. Yuuri blinks languidly, dragging his focus from the window. Maybe the drug has affected him more than he thought.

Dr. Chakova raps his arm, drawing Yuuri's attention. He realizes time has passed and curses the drug she gave him. Dr. Chakova stands from her seat and takes a table that the attendant brings, laying out several tools and medicines, before pulling on another pair of surgical gloves. The attendant hands Dr. Chakova a cloth breathing mask, then puts one over her own face, before picking up a heavy metal case and opening it, revealing two small vials of a green substance, faintly glowing.

"Since your first surgery will begin shortly after we arrive in Sochi, we must prepare. Nurse, prepare the first shot of the nanocytes, then..."

Yuuri loses track of what Dr. Chakova is saying, and he doesn't care to listen any longer. _Sochi. That's where the Olympics were. Japan won in figure skating,_ Yuuri thinks dreamily, then drifts. He barely notices as Dr. Chakova begins to work and another needle slides into his skin, nor when tiny green dots of light begin to appear in his eyes.

~*~

Yuuri wakes two hours later with a migraine. Dr. Chakova has moved to the front of the plane and is speaking quietly to the attendant. When Yuuri turns his head, he flinches, wondering why everything feels off-kilter. His body doesn't seem to want to obey him; he can barely focus on his extremities. He tries to remember what the doctor did, but cannot.

"Here," says a voice beside him, and a moment later, a straw touches Yuuri's lips. He closes his mouth and sips obediently, sighing as clean water flows down his throat. He drinks greedily until it begins to spill out of his mouth, and the cup is taken away. Instead, Peter fills his vision.

Yuuri glares reflexively. Peter snorts at the look on his face and sets the cup down. "The doctor says you must have only water until after surgery. The nanotechnology has not yet killed you." Peter nods at the windows, and Yuuri follows his gaze. His heart nearly stops at the sight of faintly glowing green eyes. His eyes are glowing, yet not as vividly as Viktor's or Yurio's eyes would. Still, the sight scares him.

"Not blue?" Yuuri whispers. His throat feels like he has been screaming. Perhaps he has -- he doesn't remember anything after Dr. Chakova gave him the second injection. He realizes that Peter is speaking English again, not Russian, which confuses him. Surely Peter would have told the others that Yuuri can speak their language.

Peter snorts, leaning back in his chair. "That comes later. When the procedure was done to me, it took longer, even though I was already..." He pauses and scowls, making Yuuri wonder what he was going to say. Already a Circle? "They have refined the method, though, and everything will be done for you in the next week. Normally, they would wait for you to recover between each surgery, but... we are on a tight schedule."

Yuuri considers this for a moment. He wonders if the pain that Peter exhibited when he used his special ability has anything to do with their 'schedule.' "What about after?"

After a moment, Peter answers. "You will be a Circle then. You will heal."

Yuuri grimaces and starts coughing, and Peter picks up the water again, letting Yuuri drink until his throat stops hurting so much. He exhales and turns away from Peter, staring at the reflection of his eyes in the window. The nanocytes should be smaller than the human eye can see, but Yuuri almost thinks he can feel them, crawling inside his veins, changing him.

"You should rest," Peter suggests, though it sounds more like an order. Yuuri pulls his arms against his bonds, then slumps back, closing his eyes.

"Then leave me alone," Yuuri whispers. Surprisingly, Peter does.

~*~

When the plane lands, the sun has already set. The pilot lands them on the most distant strip of the airport, then drives them to where several vehicles wait for them on the tarmac. Yuuri wakes as the door slides open and several medical technicians climb into the plane. Dr. Chakova stands to meet them, as Yuuri struggles to make sense of his surroundings. He must have been drugged again.

"How is the patient, doctor?" one asks, while two of them work on moving Yuuri to a stretcher. When the strap loosens on his arm, Yuuri tries to pull away, but he is easily caught and strapped down.

"Let me go," Yuuri begs, his Japanese slurring. He can barely think, let alone fight against them. He doesn't want to become a Circle. He wants to go home, to Viktor. He strains against the straps buckled around his chest, tossing his head. "Viktor, please..."

"Viktor?" asks one of the technicians, pausing. Peter approaches from behind him, leaning over to frown at Yuuri.

"His lover. Not the one you're thinking of," Peter snaps, and the technician lets it go. Yuuri thinks, _yes he is_ , then loses focus, his mind drifting. They wheel Yuuri off the plane, heading for an unmarked van parked between two cars.

"Barely lucid, as you can see. Nil per oral since twelve hours ago. He accepted both infusions of the nanocytes, and we have kept him quiet with low doses of propofol. Last injection was three hours ago."

As the doctors load him into the van, Yuuri turns his head to stare at Peter, who is watching him closely. He wonders if Peter has any inkling of the secrets Yuuri holds, of what he is determined to protect. He wonders what sort of expression Peter would make if Yuuri told him everything he knew.

 _I won't let you have Viktor,_ Yuuri thinks, before everything fades away.

~*~

When Yuuri wakes, his chest feels heavy.

He opens his eyes slowly, grimacing as the world seems to tilt for a moment, before he can focus. The room is blurry, his glasses long missing, but Yuuri can see two doors, a single window, and scant furniture, with nothing to decorate the bare walls and surfaces. He turns his head and sees a table beside the bed where he is lying, several machines monitoring him. There is an IV set up, dripping clear fluid into his arm. He is wearing starched white clothes, pants and a sleeveless shirt.

He glances at the window, where he can see his reflection. His eyes are glowing green.

"No," Yuuri whispers, then looks at his chest. Heavy bandages are bundled beneath the white cloth of his shirt, and Yuuri reaches up with trembling fingers to touch the lump. Something feels _wrong_.

Panic seems a long way away, but Yuuri's mind is clear for the first time in days. He pulls the shirt up and yanks away the bandages.

A large incision is stitched closed across the middle of his chest, over his heart. When Yuuri touches his fingers to the angry-looking cut, he feels something firm beneath the skin, harder than bone.

His mind flashes back to when he pressed his hand over Viktor's heart.

"So they did do it," Yuuri whispers, letting go of his shirt and sinking back against his pillow. The surgery must have been completed already. Yuuri doesn't remember any of it. He wonders how much time has passed.

The door opens then, and Peter steps into the room. Yuuri looks up from his chest and groans.

"Not you," Yuuri groans, not caring what language he is speaking. He is too angry. Peter observes him for a moment, then walks over to the bed, catching Yuuri's chin in his hand. Yuuri grabs his wrist and tries to pull back, but he is too weak. Peter tilts his chin up, then lets go of him.

"You survived the first piece," Peter says, tapping lightly at Yuuri's chest where the piece of metal has been implanted. Yuuri flinches as pain reverberates through his sternum, shoving at Peter's hand again. This time, he lets Yuuri push him away. "The next one will be in two days."

Yuuri covers his chest with his hand, wondering when the pain will stop. "Shouldn't... they let me heal? It hurts..."

Peter tilts his head, then reaches over to one of the machines to press a button. It begins to beep softly. "The doctor will bring you painkillers. As for healing, there is little time. The shipment will be here in less than a week. You must be prepared to receive it."

"Shipment?" Yuuri asks, confused.

A muscle in Peter's jaw twitches. "The serum that will transform you. Our only supplier was destroyed, but the Americans still had some. They have sent it back to us, though I am certain they will try to replicate it," Peter adds with a mutter.

"Destroyed?" Yuuri whispers.

"In Japan, ironically. The manufacturing facility and the stock we had. It was all destroyed by a pest," Peter says, his eyes narrowing, and Yuuri understands, then.

The Fukuoka plant. Viktor stole something... Was it this? This serum that created Peter? Viktor must have known about this program. No wonder Viktor hadn't wanted to tell Yuuri anything. Even knowing this is dangerous; he wishes he could forget it. He doesn't understand much, either; he wishes Peter would explain it, but he is afraid of asking.

More than anything, Yuuri wishes he could talk to Viktor.

Peter gives him an odd look, and Yuuri refocuses on him. "We do not need to wait between procedures. If all is successful, then you will heal yourself," Peter continues. Yuuri blinks a few times, recalling the vision of Viktor's wound stitching back together. Peter's lips twitch. "A perk of being a Circle."

Yuuri considers that for a moment. "And if I die?"

"You will not," Peter tells him, more an order than anything. "I will not allow it. You are my only chance."

Yuuri pushes himself up a little, pressing his hand harder against the incision in his chest. He feels the ache, and he holds onto that sensation, glaring up at Peter. "I don't want to be your partner."

Peter holds his stare for a moment, then smiles a little. Something in his expression speaks of old anger; his eyes are cold, and Yuuri shivers. "No one does, yet I need one all the same. I have been watching you, Yuuri, little bird. You trained, and you kept your head down, yet you did not bow to your superiors. You are strong, and you are intelligent. In time, you will trust me. You will have to."

At that moment, a sharp knock sounds at the door, and a team of doctors and nurses step in. As they surround Yuuri and begin prodding him and scolding him for taking off his bandages, Yuuri continues to stare at Peter, chilled by his words. He had felt attention from time to time in the camp, yet Yuuri had kept his head down to avoid trouble.

It hadn't been enough, because Peter had still noticed him. Finally Yuuri looks away, not responding to any of the doctors' questions, his jaw clenching over his anger.

~*~

Three days pass slowly. Yuuri is not allowed to walk around, and since his heart begins to hurt every time Yuuri so much as turns over, Yuuri doesn't bother disobeying. Even just going to the bathroom leaves him breathless with pain, and he spends most of his time sleeping.

Peter still uses English with him around the doctors, though when they are alone, he speaks in Russian, and he looks pleased every time Yuuri replies in the same language. His pronunciation is still awful, and Yurio would make fun of him for it, but Yuuri's vocabulary is good enough to handle the conversations. The doctors think he doesn't know their language and continue to use English with him. Yuuri isn't sure why Peter hasn't told them he speaks Russian; maybe he likes the idea of having a secret between him and Yuuri. Maybe he is trying to make Yuuri trust him.

It only makes him more distrustful.

Peter doesn't speak to him that often. Occasionally, though, Yuuri will wake up from a nap and find Peter standing in his room, sometimes staring out the window, sometimes watching Yuuri. He hates it, and he doesn't bother hiding his irritation, which seems to amuse Peter. More than once, Yuuri has snapped at him in frustration, and Peter has never gotten angry at him. The only things that seem to anger him are Viktor and any mentions of his past. Since Yuuri refuses to discuss either of those things, Peter seems almost friendly with him.

He knows it isn't real. Peter is trying to foster some sort of relationship between them, but Yuuri refuses to give in. There are only two Circles that he trusts, and neither of them are here.

On the fourth day, Yuuri is given another dose of medicine to keep him calm, before he is wheeled through the building to a large room full of gleaming instruments and monitors. Yuuri is carefully laid on his chest, with pillows under his shoulders to keep the weight off his heart, while the doctors around him prepare to plant the additional robotics piece on his spine.

Yuuri closes his eyes, not wanting to watch. He wishes they would hurry up and sedate him.

Just as the doctors are about to inject him with medicine, a voice breaks into the low murmuring.

"Stop the surgery! Put down your tools! We cannot operate on him now."

Dr. Chakova, who is standing over Yuuri, yanks down her mask and scowls at the man in the doorway, her knife gleaming inches from Yuuri's body. "What do you mean, stop?"

The man leans against the doorway to catch his breath, nodding at Yuuri's prone form. "Orders from above. This one is on the news. Korotkov got caught and confessed everything. It's gone international, and his family is looking for him. We're fucked."

Hope blossoms in Yuuri's mind as he processes those words, pushing past the heavy cloudiness of the medicine they gave him. His family? His parents were looking for him? He is on international news?

Above him, Dr. Chakova throws down the scalpel, turning a narrow glare on Yuuri, then on the unfortunate messenger again. "We cannot stop now. He already went through the first two procedures. What would you have me do? I cannot take it out again." She laughs, short and vicious. "His government already sent him to us. They will not accept him back, and we will not return him."

The messenger wavers, looking between Dr. Chakova and Yuuri's body. "The director said..."

Dr. Chakova curses, yanking off her plastic gloves and following the man into the hall. "Fine! Let me talk to Kazakavich! Put him to sleep, but do not cancel yet," she orders a nurse, who nods and reaches for the IV connected to Yuuri's arm. Yuuri watches the doctor go, wanting to know more about his family, about what the news is saying, but then the nurse injects something into his IV, and everything fades away.

~*~

This time when Yuuri wakes up, both his chest and his back hurt, and breathing is difficult. He gasps in air, wondering wildly where he is. When he tries to open his eyes, his head aches sharply, and he tries to cover his face with his arm. He remembers that an IV is hooked into his arm, and he grimaces, slowly setting his arm down again.

"Here," says a familiar voice, before a straw is pressed against Yuuri's lips. He moans and shoves it away, wanting to curl up, but even thinking about moving hurts.

"I thought they couldn't do it," Yuuri coughs. Peter pushes the straw against his mouth again, and Yuuri reluctantly drinks for a few moments, before opening his eyes.

Peter is alone in the room, standing beside Yuuri's bed and watching him. At the look on Yuuri's face, Peter sets down the cup of water and glances at the medical equipment. Whatever he sees there satisfies him, because he sits down in the chair beside Yuuri's bed.

"The doctor made them see reason. You have caused us trouble," Peter says, though he doesn't sound upset. Yuuri tries to think back to the moments before the surgery, recalling vaguely that his family is looking for him. His heart leaps with hope.

"My family..."

"They will be handled," Peter says, his voice mild. Yuuri's blood runs cold.

"Don't you dare," Yuuri whispers, pushing himself up. Peter reaches over and pushes his shoulder down, making Yuuri cry out. He settles for glaring as he pants. "Don't touch them."

"We won't. It would cause more trouble," Peter replies. His eyes are lit with blue, and his gaze mostly remains on Yuuri's chest. He must be listening to Yuuri's heart for any irregularities. "Stop moving. You must rest."

"Don't hurt my family."

A flash of annoyance crosses Peter's expression. "I told you, we will not. A fake body will be used, planted to make you look dead. It is easy to do."

Yuuri stops struggling and stares at Peter, horrified. He is reminded of Yurio and the story he told of his past, of the Velenos Corporation faking his death so they could control him. Yuuri bites down hard on his lip, then turns away, struggling with the urge to cry. He doesn't want his family to think him dead. Yet... if that will protect them from the Velenos Corporation, then it would be better than nothing.

He wonders, wildly, what that doctor told the police. It seems strange that the police even got ahold of him. Something is missing there, but Yuuri can't make any sense of it.

Finally Yuuri breathes out and looks away. "Leave me alone," he whispers. "Everything hurts, and I want to sleep."

"I'll send for the doctor," Peter says, standing, but he doesn't agree to leave. As he reaches for the button, Yuuri speaks up.

"Wait."

A moment stretches between them, filled with Yuuri's anger and fear. For all that Yuuri is afraid, he is grateful that someone has remained beside him, even if it is Peter. "When are they going to change me?" Yuuri asks quietly, staring at the window where he can see his glowing eyes. The sky is dark outside.

"Three days," Peter replies, just as quiet. "The serum will arrive then. Before that, you will have your eyes corrected."

Yuuri closes his eyes, his throat aching for a moment. He wants to ask for more water, but he doesn't want Peter to give it to him. He holds back the tears, because if Viktor saw him like this, it would hurt him. He needs to be strong.

"I'm not going to let you get away with this," Yuuri says quietly. "I won't become a soldier or a war machine. I'm going to destroy this place and everyone tied to it."

Peter is silent for a long moment. "I should like to see it, if you do." Then he reaches over to press the button to summon the doctors, leaving Yuuri confused and upset.

He gives in to his tears, not caring who sees.

~*~

On the day of his final procedure, Yuuri wakes early when Peter steps into his room. His eyes are glowing again, and Yuuri holds his stare for a long moment, bewildered by his own clear vision. They completed his eye surgery yesterday, and Yuuri still isn't used to being able to see properly. He misses the familiar weight of his glasses, even the overly large ones they gave him in prison. His chest and back still hurt. His legs, his hands, even his toes, all of his body tingles with the feeling of the nanocytes changing him. He wonders if the pain will ever stop.

Living like this, bedridden and unable to move, in this sterile environment of white coats and Peter's constant company... it is hell on Yuuri's mental state. Though he is no longer starving or filthy from living as a prisoner, he misses the simplicity of blending into a crowd and avoiding attention. Here, Peter is always watching him, and the doctors are always fussing over him. He is rarely alone, and when he is, all he feels is a never-ending ache in his limbs.

Peter walks over to stand beside his bed. Yuuri considers ignoring him again, but he is tired of playing these games with Peter. He just wants it to end. Whether with his death from the effects of the serum, or with his transformation... he wants everything to be over.

"Today, you will change," Peter tells him quietly. Yuuri scoffs softly and shifts to his right side, which is slightly less painful than his left.

"Like I have a choice in the matter," Yuuri mutters, looking at the pitcher of water beside his bed pointedly. Peter follows his gaze, snorts, and obligingly pours him a glass of water, holding the straw to his lips. Yuuri sips slowly, his stomach growling in protest. They didn't let him have any dinner last night, and he doubts he will eat anything before the final procedure. He thinks longingly of his last dinner in Japan, of rice and pickles. He would do _anything_ for a proper bowl of rice.

Peter clears his throat, waiting for Yuuri to look up at him. He lowers the cup after Yuuri drinks his fill and crosses his arms. "After the procedure, you will hear more. You will see more. It will be unsettling. They will put you in a room alone while your body transforms and heals itself. You will become stronger and faster, and I will be there to keep you from harming others or escaping." He smiles slightly at the glare on Yuuri's face. "I will teach you how to control it."

Yuuri doesn't like the thought of hurting others. "What about the Greens? If I'm going to be like you, and I have that ability..."

Peter shakes his head. "It takes time to learn to develop that ability. You will have it, but the most you will do is make them stop what they are doing. Complicated orders will take better control. Until you learn that control, you will be kept away from the Greens."

Yuuri considers that for a moment. The thought that he won't be able to do anything bad to anyone relieves him enough that he sighs, reaching up to push his hair out of his face. He hasn't cut it in weeks.

His eyes follow Peter's hand as he reaches for the button. "Peter," Yuuri says quietly, using Peter's name for the first time since Peter took him away. Peter stops and stares at him, and Yuuri meets his eyes. "I will survive, and I won't rest until I destroy all of this. I promise you that."

Peter stills, holding Yuuri's gaze for an intense and uncomfortable moment, then leans closer. His head tilts a little, as if to move forward, and his gaze drops to Yuuri's mouth. Yuuri breathes in softly, shocked by Peter's closeness. A second later, the realization hits his brain, because he has been in this situation before, one he welcomed. Yuuri narrows his eyes, leaning back out of Peter's reach. To his relief, Peter steps back, looking disturbed by his own actions. He slams his hand on the button and stalks over to the window, saying nothing more as the first doctor steps into the room.

Yuuri is left shaken and confused, wondering if he imagined that. He shudders and hopes it was simply a trick of the light. Dr. Chakova asks him how he feels, and Yuuri ignores her as always, turning his head away to look at the opposite wall.

Dr. Chakova scowls at him, but Yuuri has little care for responding to her after the way she and the other doctors have treated him. Finally she sighs and calls for a nurse, who wheels a stretcher into the room. Together, they move Yuuri to the stretcher and strap him down, and Yuuri lets them, because his body hurts too much for him to try protesting. This time, they bind his entire body, even his head, as if anticipating violence.

As they take Yuuri away, he notices Peter watching him, his expression twisted into something pensive.

For the last time, Yuuri is wheeled into the surgery room, the white light shining over his head. He glances to the side to where a heavy case sits. Dr. Chakova catches his attention and smiles, turning to the case and opening it with a little flourish. Inside the pressed foam rests a single vial, glowing a lurid blue, almost too blue to be real. Yuuri stares at it for a long moment, wondering if the serum that changed Viktor was like this. He wonders if it will hurt.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Dr. Chakova says, awe in her voice. "The Americans did not want to give it up. They have demanded more, but the scientist who created it is missing. You will be the second successful Blue cyborg, and the first created directly from a human. Not even Peter went through the changes you did. He was a Green first."

Peter clears his throat in warning, and Dr. Chakova throws him an irritated look. Yuuri follows her glare to Peter, standing against the wall, meeting his glowing eyes. Then Yuuri looks back at the doctor, closing his hands into fists.

"Is this recorded?" Yuuri asks in careful English. Dr. Chakova pauses, her pale gaze searching his own, surprised that he actually spoke.

"It is," she replies, and Yuuri exhales sharply.

"Then know," he continues in Japanese, his eyes narrowing, "that I do not consent to this procedure. I will not be your dog. Whatever you turn me into, I will never hurt anyone, and I will never obey anyone. I will escape, and I will destroy you all."

The whole room goes silent, frozen by the anger and determination in his words, even if they do not understand. Yuuri holds Dr. Chakova's gaze, then looks past her to Peter, who looks reluctantly impressed.

Then Dr. Chakova raps his arm. "Speak in English," she snaps, and Yuuri snorts.

"You don't deserve it," he retorts, not bothering to obey her. She narrows her eyes, but Peter clears his throat again.

"Begin the procedure, doctor," Peter says, his eyes glittering. Dr. Chakova twitches, as if wanting to argue with Yuuri more, and he feels smug when she reluctantly leaves his side to wash her hands and pull on gloves. When she returns and picks up the vial, Yuuri's amusement fades abruptly. His gaze follows the blue vial as Dr. Chakova flips it upside down and slides the needle in, filling it completely, then moves her hands to Yuuri's IV.

He swallows nervously, wishing they had sedated him. It's too late for him now; Yuuri knows that. He could have escaped from all this by now. He thinks of all the chances he had to run and mourns the loss of his freedom, hating that he has been brought to this point. Grimacing, Yuuri takes a deep breath as Dr. Chakova slides the needle in and begins to inject it. The tube leading to his vein slowly turns blue, the line of liquid traveling down to his skin, and Yuuri swallows, wondering what it will feel like.

Then the fluid begins to flow into his blood, and at first, it feels like very little. Dr. Chakova empties the needle and sets it aside, then turns her curious gaze on Yuuri, almost fanatic in her anticipation of the serum's results.

Yuuri begins to shiver. The veins on his arm shift to a lurid blue, almost alien in appearance, and his arm goes numb. Yuuri gasps as the strange feeling travels up his arm to his heart, which suddenly turns to fire, more painful than anything he has felt in his life.

"No, no," Yuuri whimpers, as the strange feeling rapidly spreads through the rest of his body, all of his veins turning blue with the foreign power. He begins to convulse, and he throws his head back and screams, his eyes snapping wide.

Unbeknownst to Yuuri, his eyes have flooded a vivid, brilliant blue, brighter than any light in the room.

The pain wracks through his body for what feels like hours, connections forming in his brain and breaking through the limits of his senses. The light is too bright; it hurts him, yet he cannot look away from it. He becomes aware of a heavy beat in his ear, and of many more sounds that he cannot comprehend. His entire world has changed; _he_ has changed.

At last, the sensation of liquid fire racing through his every nerve begins to calm down, something cool sweeping through him in its trail. Yuuri sags against his bindings, his face damp with tears. He feels like he is floating in the ocean, the world gently turning around him. This world is without pain, and he knows little more than the steady beat in his ear.

Vaguely, Yuuri wonders if it is his heartbeat.

A figure obscures his vision, and Yuuri tiredly lifts his gaze. Blue eyes, the blue eyes he doesn't want, are the first thing he sees in this new world. He doesn't want Peter; he wants Viktor. He wants the soft blue of Viktor's eyes, the warmth of his smile, the safety of his arms. He wants to go home.

Peter smiles at him. "You did it, little bird," he whispers. Yuuri debates spitting in his face, then chooses to give into the darkness, glad to escape this hell.

~*~

When Yuuri wakes for the first time after his transformation, he is alone, and alone he remains.

Just as Peter promised, Yuuri has been left to recuperate in a padded room. His cot is low to the ground, and the single window is too high for Yuuri to reach if he stands up. Even the bathroom has been designed so that Yuuri cannot hurt himself on anything inside.

Within a day, all of his pain is gone, the skin on his chest and back neatly knitting back together. Yuuri hardly notices, though, because the world overwhelms him. Even with the padding and thick walls between him and the rest of the compound, he can _hear_ more than he has ever heard before. People talking, hearts beating, tools rattling, the rush of water through pipes -- he can hear it all. Though muted, it starts to drive him into sensory overload, often leaving Yuuri huddled in the corner of his cell, his hands pressed tightly over his ears.

He can see further than he ever imagined, too. Once, Yuuri manages to jump up to the window and heave himself up to the ledge, and he can look over the whole of the compound. Even in the darkness of night, he can see the individual treads on the tire of a truck parked on the opposite side of the compound. In the distance, he can see the lights of Sochi gleaming, taunting him. If he strains himself, he can hear someone talking about the food they had for dinner.

Yuuri tries to learn to turn his Circle abilities on and off on his own, instead of relying on Peter or asking the doctors. He notices that when he wakes up from sleeping, his hearing wasn't as strong, and he realizes that his abilities are not active during his sleep, perhaps when he is calmest. To test it out, Yuuri takes to sitting in silence and darkness, focusing on his own breathing until he feels calm enough that the electric hum in his chest dies down. Yuuri can only manage to turn it off when he is calm and alone. If he is too anxious or stressed, he cannot control it.

It hurts to stretch his senses, though. Yuuri is afraid of testing his abilities further. He doesn't climb the window again, and he doesn't approach the door, either. He barely eats the food the nurses bring him, delivered via a small door over a shelf on one of the walls. He never sees anyone.

Peter comes to visit him only once, when Yuuri is standing under the window. Yuuri senses him before he sees him, with an odd awareness of Peter lingering on the other side of the wall. He doesn't like the feeling, and he likes it even less when Peter opens the door. The noise that spills into the room makes Yuuri cry out in pain, remaining tense until Peter shuts the door. Yuuri can hear Peter's heart beating, the faint hum of the circle in his chest, regulating the serum as it pumps through his veins. He can hear the breath Peter takes before he speaks. 

He doesn't look at Peter. He doesn't want to see that horrible glow in his eyes, the same in his own.

"I am leaving you for a week." The statement makes Yuuri go still with shock. "My... superiors," Peter says with a sneer, "want answers about the prison riot in Magadan. Once I return, we will begin your training."

"I'm not going to train with you," Yuuri snaps, then flinches at the sound of his own voice. He turns his back to Peter, pressing closer to the wall.

Peter snorts softly. "You say that now, but you will have no choice, little bird. You should use this time to rest." He hesitates, as if wanting to say more, but Yuuri throws a glare over his shoulder, meeting his eyes defiantly.

Peter holds his stare for a moment, then purposefully opens the door. The cacophony of noise sends Yuuri reeling, stumbling into his cot and falling down. He curls himself into a fetal position, clutching his hands over his ears. "Get out," Yuuri rasps.

After a moment, the door closes. When Yuuri feels calm enough to control himself, he looks over his shoulder. Peter is gone.

Yuuri breathes out and turns his face into his pillow, his shoulders trembling as he tries to recover.

~*~

Two days pass in silence. Yuuri slowly grows used to the changes in his body. He realizes that in addition to the transformation of his senses, he is now much stronger than before. He nearly cries when he breaks his spoon in half, and he cracks the side of the bathtub when he squeezes it too hard trying to stand up.

He doesn't dare try to escape. What if someone other than Peter comes in, and Yuuri ends up hurting them? Instead of moving too much, Yuuri stays huddled in bed, letting himself dream of those sweet days in Hasetsu with Viktor and Yurio. He wonders how his family is doing, if they will believe that he is dead. He wonders how Phichit is faring, and how he reacted to Yuuri's disappearance, so eerily similar to Chatchom's death years ago.

He drifts through his fantasies and thoughts of the world he left behind. Has Sara begun publishing the information Yuuri sent her? Did they get the data that Yuuri uploaded to Michele's server? He wonders where Yurio is, if he joined Viktor in his crusade to attack the Velenos bases, or if he found his grandfather in Europe. He hopes Yurio escaped. He wants Yurio to live a better life than this hell.

Lost in his contemplation, Yuuri doesn't understand that something is happening until the bed shakes beneath him. He sits up in shock, wondering if it was an earthquake. Then he notices screaming beyond the walls of his cell, and he goes stiff, anxiously wondering what it could mean.

The building shakes again, and Yuuri realizes that it is an explosion. He lurches up and runs to the window, jumping up to clutch its ledge and staring out over the base. A fire burns in one of the buildings on the far north side of the compound, and he can see people running in the darkness.

Another explosion goes off, making the room shake again, and the lights flicker, before turning off completely. Yuuri twitches when he hears a click in his door, letting go of the window and staring. He can see fine in the dark, and if he isn't mistaken... it sounds like his door just unlocked.

Yuuri approaches the door on bare feet, his body tensing. Then he pulls open the door and steps out, flinching as the sounds of shouting and gunfire suddenly take over his hearing.

" _I'll ask you again, where is Yuuri? You will tell me what you have done to him,_ ” says a very familiar voice amidst the chaos, and Yuuri goes rigid.

"Viktor," Yuuri says blankly. He hears footsteps nearby and turns his head, spotting two doctors at the end of the hall with a flashlight. They notice him immediately, but Yuuri doesn't hesitate. He takes off running in the opposite direction, his eyes flaring a brilliant blue as he turns up his hearing.

He hears someone speaking into a radio. " _Patient has escaped. Capture him without injury. I repeat, do not shoot at him, do not injure him._ "

As Yuuri runs, he becomes aware of a heartbeat that sounds different from all of the hearts in the compound. It has an oddly electrical hum, much like Peter's, and abruptly, he realizes it must be Viktor. Yuuri focuses on that sound and nothing else, drowning out the chaos with the knowledge that _Viktor is here._

Yuuri flies down the first stairwell he finds, making it all the way to the ground floor before he runs into soldiers in the middle of a hallway. He freezes as he spots them, and they point their guns at him, then falter as they remember their orders. Yuuri hears their heartbeats skip and speed up with adrenaline, and he turns on his heel and runs the other way.

"Stop him!" shouts one of the soldiers. Yuuri realizes that Viktor's heartbeat is moving, and he turns in that direction, running until he comes upon a pair of doors. He throws them open and stumbles outside, gasping as the sounds of gunfire overwhelm his hearing for a moment.

The gunfire suddenly stops when another explosion goes off, and a moment later, the heartbeat that has been the focus of Yuuri's world comes very close. He turns and looks across the compound until his eyes land on a familiar figure, standing tall beside a building, his pale hair gleaming. Yuuri would know him anywhere.

"Viktor," Yuuri whispers, stepping forward, then bursting into a run. Even from here, he can see Viktor's eyes widen, the green glow vivid against the dark of the night.

"Yuuri," Viktor says, as if he is right next to him, and then he begins to run, too.

They meet in the middle of the space, Viktor catching Yuuri in his arms and clutching him close, as Yuuri throws his arms around Viktor and holds on tightly. a moment later, Viktor pulls him away into the shelter of an empty building, and Yuuri goes with him willingly, pressing himself against Viktor's side.

"Viktor, Viktor," Yuuri babbles, feeling everything inside him break, his fear spilling over his cheeks in tears. He has been holding on for so long, and _finally_ , they are together again. Months of worrying means little to him now, because he has Viktor in his arms. Everything that happened to him, all of the nightmares and suffering and miserable days... for this moment, they mean nothing to him. All that matters is Viktor. He can let go, because Viktor is here now. Viktor will take care of him.

Content that they are safe for now, Viktor holds Yuuri close, pressing shaky kisses to his hair, to his face, clutching him too hard. Yuuri doesn't break in his arms, though; instead he kisses Viktor back as hard as he can, sobbing as their lips meet for the first time in months. When Viktor pulls away, his fingers brush against the corners of Yuuri's glowing eyes, and he looks heartbroken.

"Yuuri... Yuuri, what have they done to you?" Viktor whispers, wiping away Yuuri's tears. "Your eyes..." His gaze drops to Yuuri's chest, where an outline of a blue circle can be seen beneath his thin shirt. Viktor gasps and covers his mouth, shaking his head. "No, no."

Yuuri flinches, suddenly wondering if Viktor hates him for becoming like this. If Viktor knows about the Blue program, then he knows what Yuuri is. Is he disgusted? Yuuri isn't himself anymore... he has _changed_ , and surely, Viktor will hate him for it.

As if reading his thoughts, Viktor takes his hands again and leans in to kiss him, then folds Yuuri in his arms. "Whatever you just thought, stop it, Yuuri. I am so sorry," Viktor whispers, before pulling away and holding Yuuri's face in his hands. He lays soft kisses on Yuuri's cheeks, his nose, his lips, tears wetting their faces. Viktor's hair is limp, and he looks like he hasn't slept or showered in a long time, his clothes dirty with gunpowder and blood. He looks so tired, but Yuuri is overwhelmingly happy to see him. He feels like _home_. "I brought this to you. I did this to you."

"No," Yuuri manages, catching Viktor's wrists, and he grips too tightly, but Viktor never flinches. It relieves Yuuri a little, to trust that Viktor will not break beneath his touch. "Viktor, my doctor sold me to them. He was working for them all along. They didn't even know about you."

Viktor shudders to hear it, his face twisting with fury. "I know. I found your house. I found out what Koroba did. He's in jail," Viktor hisses. Yuuri starts in shock that Viktor actually went back to his house, and he wonders what all has happened to Viktor since they parted. Viktor's anger fades quickly, and he wraps Yuuri in his arms again, a sob in his chest. "I wanted to protect you."

Yuuri's arms tighten around him. "You did. They don't _know,_ Viktor. They don't know about us, they didn't," he tries, then thinks better of his words. "I never told them about you." Viktor relaxes a little against him, and Yuuri sighs, hating that Viktor has suffered because of him. He wonders if Viktor thought he would break and tell all -- and surely, Yuuri should have, with the torment he suffered.

He could never, though. Viktor's secrets will go with him to the grave. With his rescue of Yuuri, Viktor has given their relationship away, but Yuuri doubts Velenos will ever realize the full story.

He wonders what Peter will think, returning to a destroyed compound and Yuuri missing. He shudders and puts the thought out of his head, not wanting to think about Peter. He will tell Viktor everything later, but for now, he wants to get out of here. Wherever Viktor wants to take him, Yuuri will go with him.

Viktor sighs, cupping Yuuri's head and kissing his hair, then dragging himself away, taking his hand. "We must go. I have set up bombs to explode on my signal. Let us leave this place, Yuuri."

Yuuri can only nod, his knees buckling with relief. He lets Viktor sweep him into his arms and hides his face in Viktor's neck, trembling as they walk away. Moments later, the building that imprisoned him goes up in flames as several explosions occur. Yuuri only feels joy, surrounding himself in the sound of Viktor's heart, instead of listening to any of the chaos inside the compound.

When they step out of the destroyed gates, Yuuri notices a few heartbeats lingering nearby and stiffens. He glances over briefly and sees three youths standing there, mouths agape as they stare at Viktor and Yuuri. Viktor pauses and turns his head. He doesn't try to attack the teenagers, instead narrowing his eyes, no longer glowing. One of them pulls out a phone, pointing at the two of them, and Viktor's lips quirk slightly.

"Aren't you Viktor Nikiforov?" asks one of the teens, sounding dazed.

"What the hell did you do?" demands another, flinching when Viktor glances at him.

"I saved him," Viktor says after a moment, pulling Yuuri closer. Yuuri turns his face into Viktor's shoulder, content to let him handle everything. Without another word, Viktor vanishes into the woods, carrying Yuuri in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Vaguely Spoilery Summary** : _Yuuri is given drugs to sedate him by both needle and IV without his consent, and he falls unconscious several times from sedation. Yuuri briefly wishes he had committed suicide, then shakes it off. Several times, he is strapped down while medical procedures are done to him without his consent. There are non-graphic mentions of surgical procedures. Finally, he is given a serum that causes him great pain before he passes out._
> 
> Wow, I can't believe another chapter came out so fast! ❤️ I hope you enjoy it! Thank you to miss-meri and moonbelowsea for the beta!!


	13. floating in moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Note:** Please heed the rating change. This chapter contains a scene with explicit sexual content.
> 
> Thank you to @moonbelowsea and @miss-meri for betaing!

Once again, Yuuri sits in the passenger seat of a car traveling along a road in Russia. This time, his hands are free, save for the one entwined with Viktor's on the armrest between them. The road is somewhere far north of Sochi, deep in the wilderness and far away from any major city. Villages occasionally dot the countryside, which is filled with thick woods and rivers. Every so often, Yuuri squeezes Viktor's hand, and Viktor strokes his thumb against Yuuri's skin reassuringly. The windows are rolled down halfway, letting in cool northern air, but Viktor has turned on the heat, enough that the temperature outside isn't a bother.

Yuuri doesn't let go of Viktor's hand. He doesn't trust himself to touch anything else.

They have been driving for nearly a whole day now. Viktor only stopped once, to allow them both a short rest in an abandoned barn. Together they slept on piles of old straw while the sun was at its highest, waiting until clouds began to roll in, promising rain. Yet the sleep did little for either of them. Yuuri had barely closed his eyes before Viktor was gently tugging him up, guiding him to the car and setting out again, driving deep into the north on dirt roads with only woods on either side. Now it is nighttime again, and Yuuri is exhausted, yet he cannot bring himself to sleep.

His circle has been active the entire time, and without the thick walls of his prison, Yuuri can hear _everything._ The different parts of the car working together, Viktor's hands squeezing the leather of the steering wheel, the rustle of grass, the burst of music whenever a car passes them, distant laughter from a nearby village... every sound grates on him. For much of the ride, Yuuri sits hunched in his seat, too far dialed up to relax. Viktor does what he can, but Yuuri cannot help his tension. He is afraid of Peter and Velenos following them.

This far out in northern Russia, Yuuri feels a little better about their situation. He cannot turn off his circle, but he hasn't felt overwhelmed by the information filtering into his brain in hours. The strain on his mind has slowly eased the further away from Sochi they traveled. The calm night has helped a lot to ease Yuuri's anxiety and his racing thoughts. Maybe, just maybe, they are safe now.

Yuuri is still wearing the white clothes from the compound, along with a deep blue jacket and a new pair of boots that Viktor had for him. Viktor has filled the backseat with two suitcases, several shopping bags, a cooler, and quite a number of weapons, if Yuuri's suspicions are correct. Viktor didn't let him look too closely at those when they had arrived at his hidden car, too intent on getting Yuuri into some warm clothes before their escape.

Listening to the air passing the car is peaceful. This deep in the wilderness, all Yuuri can hear is the rustling of the trees and the calls of birds. He keeps losing himself in the sounds, so different from the din of the compound and the city. Even though it is the middle of the night, he can see the horizon, as if the darkness doesn't matter.

All of his suffering from the past several weeks... it almost feels like a dream. Yuuri cannot believe he is free. He wonders what Viktor went through to reach him, how he even knew where Yuuri was. Maybe Yakov or Mila found one of his messages. However Viktor found him, Yuuri can only feel relief. He wants to ask, but...

Since he tucked Yuuri into the car and drove them away from Sochi hours ago, Viktor has said little. Yuuri can almost taste the guilt in the air; he knows that Viktor blames himself for what has happened, even though Yuuri tried to reassure him. No matter what happened, Yuuri could never blame Viktor for what he went through, and he needs Viktor to know that.

The night is quiet outside. They have seen no other cars, and Yuuri is grateful for it. He hasn't been able to calm down enough to try and turn off his abilities. Viktor, too, still has his circle activated, filling the car with eerie green and blue glows. If someone saw them, there would be questions.

After a little while, Yuuri glances back at the pile of bags, curious about what is inside them. Viktor doesn't seem to want to talk, but Yuuri is tired of the silence brooding between them. He takes a deep breath, then speaks. "Viktor, when did you get a chance to buy all this?"

Viktor's grip tightens on the steering wheel briefly at the sound of Yuuri's question, before relaxing. Yuuri listens to the creak of the wheel's leather. "I was in Sochi for maybe half a day before I broke into the compound. I have a few 'friends' here and there who were more than willing to get me what I needed for the right price." Viktor is silent for a moment as Yuuri absorbs that. He wonders how widespread Viktor's information and contact network is. "I could have come right away. I _should_ have. Maybe I could have stopped what happened to you."

"They changed me several days ago," Yuuri says quietly, his heart aching at the pain in Viktor's voice. "They..." He stops as nausea wells up from the memories, then takes a deep breath to calm his misery. "They started the process as soon as we left Magadan. They put nanocytes in me that night. Then when we arrived here, I had my first surgery. You couldn't have known."

Viktor shakes his head once, hard. "I could have gotten on an airplane. I could have moved faster. Instead, they hurt you. They changed you," Viktor says, his voice breaking on the last few words. Yuuri shakes his head quickly.

"Viktor, you did your best --"

"It wasn't enough, Yuuri. It wasn't enough to protect you," Viktor retorts, raw and sad, so very sad. After a long, tense moment where Yuuri can only ache, Viktor takes a deep, shuddering breath. "It's too quiet, and I am very tired. Talk to me, Yuuri. Tell me... what all they did to you. Start with that doctor who took you."

Yuuri stays silent for a long moment. "I'll tell you _only_ if you promise you won't use what I say to hurt yourself. Viktor, I won't let you blame yourself for this. Everything that happened to me was because of Korotkov and Velenos. This _isn't your fault._ "

Viktor sucks in a breath, then laughs dryly, low enough to make Yuuri's ears prickle. "You know me too well, my dear. As you wish, then. I will... try. Yet I think I will always blame myself for your pain."

"I don't blame you, though," Yuuri says, flushing a little at the endearment, but not letting it derail him. He is determined to make Viktor understand. "I blame the Velenos Corporation and the people who captured me. I could never blame you, because you did everything in your power to protect me, and you _saved_ me. Anyone else would have abandoned me, Viktor."

The silence stretches between them, brittle with their guilt and anger, until it softens, bit by bit, with their love. Viktor sighs, and the tension fades, as he strokes his thumb over Yuuri's knuckles. "Alright. Tell me... what happened."

Yuuri swallows around his fear and anger, which still affect him deeply. He wonders if these emotions will always affect him. "Some things... I don't know if I can talk about them. I'll try my best."

"That's all I ask, Yuuri," Viktor says softly.

"Okay. Well... I don't know how much you know, but there was a raid, the day after you left." Yuuri swallows, his hand tightening on Viktor's fingers, needing that small comfort. "They broke into my house while I was in the bunker. I'd just gotten home... if I had been a little slower..." He shudders, and Viktor makes a low noise. "They wrecked the whole house. I was so scared," he whispers. The fear of that day has never truly left him, though he thought he had managed to bury it. Viktor gently rubs his wrist in an attempt to soothe him. Yuuri breathes in again, then exhales the fear from his memories.

"They didn't find me. They left, and I stayed downstairs all night. I was too scared. But I didn't have any food left, and I needed to eat... so I went upstairs and got some rice and pickles." Yuuri laughs a little, reminded of his feeble last meal in Japan. "That's when Muramoto- _sensei_... when Korotkov knocked on my door."

"Koroba," Viktor mutters, catching Yuuri's attention.

"Koroba?"

"That's what we called him. That man... he was a doctor for the program many years ago. He was one of the doctors who performed my surgery." Yuuri's gaze drops to Viktor's chest where his circle glows beneath his clothes, chilled by that knowledge. He had spoken with Korotkov, trusted him -- and all the while, Korotkov had hidden a sinister past. He wonders how many innocent lives were ruined by Korotkov, all for the Velenos Corporation.

"I'm sorry," Yuuri whispers.

Viktor shakes his head, his eyes remaining on the road. "It's in the past now. Go on, Yuuri."

"Mm, well... he knocked on my door, and I didn't know any better," Yuuri says quietly. "When I opened it to talk to him, he had a bunch of soldiers with him. They weren't the STF... they were Velenos. At least one of them was a Circle." Viktor starts at that, and Yuuri swallows, listening to Viktor's heart speed up at that knowledge. He still finds it strange to be able to hear Viktor's heartbeat, yet reassuring at the same time.

"A Circle... to pick up a subject? Usually they send those for more violent people," Viktor muses.

Yuuri snorts bitterly, turning his gaze to the horizon. Beyond the glow of their headlights, the trees are silent and dark. "He thought I was violent. He thought I was a thug, because I came into his office looking like I had been in a fight. Judgmental old man," Yuuri mutters, hating Korotkov for a moment.

Viktor stays silent for a long moment. "He had no right to assume such things of you. You are too gentle... you would _never_..." He seethes for a moment, then seems to bite back his rage, glancing at Yuuri briefly. "I assume they weren't kind to you. The state of your house... the police report said there was blood."

Yuuri blinks, sitting up and looking at Viktor. "No, they... they weren't kind at all. What do you mean, police report?"

Viktor sighs softly. "Perhaps we are getting ahead of ourselves, but... after you were kidnapped, Yura and I saw a news report about your disappearance. I made the decision to go back to investigate alone, and I broke into Hasetsu's police station to look at their report. It was detailed, and yet did not have enough information. They had no idea who had taken you."

"Oh," Yuuri says in a small voice. He has thought a lot about how the public might have reacted to his disappearance, but... to hear it from Viktor creates a very different story from what Yuuri imagined. "They didn't... find my bunker?"

Viktor shakes his head, glancing at Yuuri with a small smile. "No, they didn't. They didn't find any of it. I did, though. When I saw your computer and cell phone downstairs, I knew you couldn't have left willingly." He nods toward the back, turning his gaze to the road again. "I brought some of your things. Your computer, cell phone, and hard drives, and your spare glasses."

Yuuri considers that for a moment, imagining Viktor entering his home again after his disappearance. His heart aches, thinking of all that Viktor saw -- the mess, the blood, the empty house. He squeezes Viktor's hand. "I guess I don't need the glasses anymore."

Viktor lets out a soft snort at that. "No... not so much. Still, they are yours."

"Thank you," Yuuri says softly, warmed that Viktor thought to bring his things. "Um... how is Yurio? And Makkachin? You said you came back alone, and..."

"They are safe," Viktor reassures him, and Yuuri sighs in relief, slumping against his seat. Viktor flashes a small smile at him. "Makkachin went with Yura when he left the country. He reached Otabek safely, and they went to Europe together. That is our destination as well, provided we can get out of the country easily. I sent him a message already, saying that I had you. I believe Mila and Yakov are arranging our travel to Vissoie, Switzerland. Our friend Christophe lives there. He's been looking after Makkachin, even though his cat doesn't like her."

Yuuri huffs a small laugh, aching. He has missed Makkachin very dearly, and for the past two months, he has not let himself worry, for fear of imagining the worst. He can't wait to see Makkachin and Yurio again. "I'm so glad they're safe," Yuuri whispers, his relief leaving hot tears in his throat.

"They will be happy to see you," Viktor says softly. "They're fine. We will see them soon. Maybe when it's a little safer, we can try calling them."

"Good," Yuuri whispers, wiping furiously at his eyes. "I can't wait."

The quiet between them is easy for a while. After some time, though, Viktor covers a yawn, and Yuuri looks over at him in concern. Viktor shakes his head, flexing his hand on the wheel. He still has not let go of Yuuri. "I'm just tired. It's alright, Yuuri. Why don't you keep talking? We still have half an hour or so until our safe house."

Yuuri wants to know more about the safe house, but he senses that Viktor wants to listen, so he nods. "Okay... well, Korotkov and his men subdued me, then they took me to a military base somewhere in Japan. Peter was there, and he..."

Yuuri stops talking when Viktor's heart rate goes wild at the mention of Peter. Yuuri turns to stare at him, and Viktor clenches his jaw, staring resolutely ahead. "Go on," Viktor says after a long moment.

Yuuri takes a deep breath. "Are you sure? If talking about Peter upsets you..."

"Why do you say that?" Viktor asks, a little blandly.

"Because he hated it when anyone mentioned you, and you don't like hearing about him," Yuuri replies quietly, making Viktor start in surprise. "I noticed that about him. I was stuck alone with him for over a week, and he was the commander of the prison where I was kept. Everything with him... it's hard to talk about it. I... I don't know if I'll ever be ready, but I don't want you to be upset by anything I say."

A moment passes, and Viktor sighs deeply. "I'm going to be upset no matter what, Yuuri. I hate what was done to you. It's even worse knowing that Peter was part of that. The fact that you were turned into a Circle at all... and a Blue no less..." His hand clenches on the wheel again. "I hate it more than I can explain, Yuuri."

"I'm sorry," Yuuri whispers, but Viktor shakes his head abruptly. 

"You are the last person who should apologize for what has happened. You were kidnapped and assaulted and forced to change into something unnatural. I should have protected you," Viktor whispers.

Yuuri squeezes his hand tightly. After a moment, Viktor squeezes back, exhaling. "I'm sure... this is a scary situation for you. I doubt Peter made it any better, with the way he is." Viktor sneers a little over Peter's name, making Yuuri wonder what happened between them.

"Will you tell me about him?" Yuuri asks quietly.

Viktor shakes his head once. "I don't want to talk about my history with that man. Not right now. Alright?"

Yuuri nods slowly, his heart sinking at the hard edge in Viktor's voice, but he doesn't want to argue about it right now. "Alright. Someday, though, I'd like to hear it, if you'll share it." He waits for Viktor's acceptance, then continues. "Peter... he was there in Japan. He demonstrated his Circle abilities in front of everybody, when he killed a man." Yuuri swallows back bile, turning his head to stare out the window. The noises of the woods seem far away. "I was sent to Russia. They put me on a plane and took me to a military base where they tested all of us for a couple weeks. Then I was sent to Magadan."

"You were in Khabarovsk," Viktor says with a small sigh. "It is a city in eastern Russia, close to Japan. I destroyed that place, by the way."

Yuuri starts in surprise. "Destroyed it?"

Viktor's lips twist slightly. "Koroba gave me a lot of information about what was going to happen to you. I knew you would be in Khabarovsk and Magadan, so I followed you as fast as I could. You were already gone by the time I reached Khabarovsk, so I continued on to Magadan. Yet... you were gone when I reached that place, too."

"Will you tell me about it?" Yuuri asks softly.

Viktor shakes his head. "What is there to tell? I stole cars and threatened people and slept in abandoned houses. The same life I have lived since last year, except my goal was you, and I did not linger anywhere. Then when I reached Magadan, when I was finally ready to save you... once again, you were gone. The base was in ruins, and the prisoners were rioting. I met a woman who said she was your friend, who said you had been kidnapped by Peter."

Yuuri has to ignore the way Viktor's heart stutters over Peter's name. "Ji-eun?" he asks in surprise, his heart leaping. "She's alive?"

Viktor nods, squeezing Yuuri's hand. "Most of the prisoners are. A few people died, but most of them lived, and I helped them escape. I found some brokers who will help facilitate their return to their home countries, mainly China and South Korea."

"Good," Yuuri sighs. "It was her idea to try and break out... I'm glad she escaped. She was one of my only friends... her and Adrian and Huan. They were the only people I talked to in Magadan."

Viktor is silent for a long moment. A turn comes up on the dirt road they are on, and Viktor takes it, driving deeper into the woods. "I'm glad you had someone to look after you in that place," Viktor says quietly.

Yuuri bites down on his lip. "I couldn't really trust them," he replies, just as quiet. "Ji-eun figured out I could speak Russian. I hid it the whole time."

"Oh? Clever Yuuri," Viktor murmurs, and Yuuri flushes. He can hear Viktor's smile, and it warms him. "What was Magadan like? Did they hurt you?"

Yuuri shakes his head, twisting a little to watch Viktor's profile, admiring the glow of his eyes in the darkness. Viktor's eyes should be too bright for him, but seeing their gentle glow comforts him. He can trust that Viktor knows all that happens around them and will be ready to intercede if anything occurs.

He doesn't really want to talk about Magadan. Even thinking about the painful training and the terror he felt every day... it makes him sick to his stomach. Yet he will try, for Viktor. "No... I was well-behaved. For me, anyway," Yuuri says quietly, catching Viktor's chuckle. "I stayed quiet and did what they told me to do. It was mostly physical training... I think later they were going to teach us other things, but we escaped before they could."

"Likely," Viktor sighs. "You would be grouped based on your aptitude tests, both physical and mental. I imagine they'd want to put you in assassination or programming," Viktor muses, and Yuuri lets out a short laugh.

"That's what one of my doctors said," Yuuri explains when Viktor glances at him in curiosity. Viktor grimaces and focuses on the road again. He tries to think of ways to explain his experience there, but he doesn't want to share the nightmare of that place and stress Viktor further. He wants to forget about it. "It was... mm. It wasn't a good place, Viktor, but I survived."

"Barely," Viktor mutters. "You're skin and bones. Did they starve you?"

Yuuri flushes again. "The food tasted awful. I did eat, though! Really," he insists at Viktor's doubtful look.

"As long as they didn't hurt you," Viktor mutters, then sighs again. "I sense you do not want to talk about it. That's fine, Yuuri, though... I want to know what happened with Peter."

Yuuri lowers his gaze to their hands, his chest tightening at the mention of Peter. He wonders if either of them will be able to handle that conversation. "Can... can we save that for another time?"

After a moment, Viktor squeezes his hand, and his voice is impossibly gentle. "Of course, Yuuri. We're nearly there, anyway."

"Where is there?"

Viktor nods ahead, and Yuuri follows his gaze to the road. He squints, then realizes there is a hidden driveway that dips down a hill, which Viktor turns onto. At the end of that driveway is a small dirt path in the trees, just large enough to fit the car. Viktor drives down this tiny road to a quaint little farmhouse hidden in the woods. There is a vegetable garden out front, empty of anything but weeds, and the rest of the yard is filled with overgrown flowers and grass. The house has a rustic look to it, with a triangular attic and heavy shutters over the windows.

" _Dacha_ ," Viktor explains quietly as he parks the car behind the house. "I believe this one was used as a hideaway during the Soviet era. We can stay here for a little while."

Yuuri stares up at the house, looking forward to actually _resting_ \-- yet at the same time, he worries. "They won't find us?" he whispers.

Viktor shakes his head. "No one has followed us, and I checked us both for tracking devices. We cannot connect to the internet, so there will be no signal for them to triangulate. We should be safe here." He turns off the car, then leans back in his seat with a heavy sigh. "I want a hot shower," Viktor groans, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Yuuri thinks longingly of his family's _onsen_ for a moment. "Let's go take one, then."

Viktor shares a small smile with him. "Alright. Let's get everything inside first."

Half an hour later, they have deposited the last of the bags in the living room, and Viktor has turned on the small generator in the back that will heat everything. They keep the curtains and shutters closed to keep the light from spilling outside, but inside the house, the rooms are comfortably decorated, sheets covering the furniture. Some of it is a little worn from age, yet perfectly usable.

Yuuri tries to help Viktor put groceries away in the small kitchen, but he rips open a box of pasta and accidentally smashes half a bag of potatoes. After the third time he nearly breaks something from being unable to control his new strength, Yuuri shrinks back and stares down at his hands in despair, wondering if he will be able to touch anything normally ever again.

"Hey, it's okay. Just sit here and rest." Viktor gently nudges him to sit on a chair at the rickety table, swiftly putting everything away except for several potatoes. These he wraps in foil and puts inside the oven to bake, before drawing Yuuri to the back of the house to the single bedroom.

Yuuri stands in the middle of the room, holding his hands carefully at his sides as Viktor goes around pulling sheets off the furniture and checking the bed for clean sheets. His gaze drops to the floor when Viktor disappears into the bathroom with one of his bags, listening to him set several items down on a surface -- toiletries, most likely -- before turning the water on. The sound of the shower drowns out some of the odd sounds elsewhere in the house, the foil in the oven crinkling, the wind rustling the shutters.

Viktor steps out of the bathroom. "Yuuri, why don't you go first?"

Yuuri considers it, then nods slowly, walking over to the bathroom door. He pauses beside Viktor, his gaze still lowered, then holds out his hand. "Join me?" Yuuri asks softly. He doesn't want to be apart from Viktor for too long. Letting Viktor out of his sight right now seems like a mistake.

Viktor inhales softly, then gently takes Yuuri's hand and squeezes it, giving him a small smile. Though he looks achingly tired and older than his years, the softness in Viktor's gaze eases some of the tension in Yuuri's chest. "Okay," Viktor whispers, letting Yuuri pull him into the bathroom.

After taking a deep breath and breathing in the steam from the bath, Yuuri sets to taking off his clothes. Despite trying to be careful, he rips his shirt and almost gives up, his hands shaking, before Viktor steps in front of him and takes his hands. Yuuri looks up, his mouth trembling enough that he has to bite his lip, as Viktor helps him grip his shirt and carefully guide it up over his head. Together, they do the same to Yuuri's boots and pants, leaving him standing nude in front of Viktor, who gazes down at his body with a desolate sadness that makes Yuuri's very bones ache. He cannot feel embarrassment for the state of his body any longer. Weeks of showering beside dozens of other prisoners have removed his shame, and he trusts Viktor.

"You've lost so much weight," Viktor whispers brokenly, his fingers reaching out and skirting over Yuuri's ribs. Yuuri shakes his head mutely, then touches the hem of Viktor's shirt, unsure if he should try taking it off. He doesn't want to tear it.

Viktor wordlessly pulls off his own shirt, and Yuuri gasps softly, seeing Viktor's ribs stretched beneath thin skin. He looks completely different from what Yuuri remembers, and he _aches_ , knowing that Viktor has suffered just as much as him from the stress of chasing after him. "You haven't been eating properly either," Yuuri accuses, and Viktor chuckles low in his throat, catching Yuuri's face in his hands and leaning in to kiss his forehead.

"How could I, knowing you were in their hands? Perhaps we are both a little broken, my love, but your presence gives me strength. You and I will both eat, and we will heal. I won't let you suffer any longer," Viktor says, suddenly fierce, and what else can Yuuri do but lean up to kiss him? As their lips meet, he melts into Viktor's arms, shaking from the force of his emotions.

He doesn't know what to feel. Sadness over what happened to Viktor. Anger at Peter and Velenos and the world. Fear of the future and the unknown. Yet for every negative thought that passes through his head, a softer, warmer emotion eclipses his pain, reminding him that Viktor is here now. They will take care of each other. That is all Yuuri could ever desire.

"I just need you," Yuuri whispers, aching. "I can't suffer if I have you, Viktor."

Viktor inhales softly against his lips. His heartbeat is loud and strong in Yuuri's ears, louder than any of the other hundreds of tiny sounds that keep distracting him, and Yuuri focuses on that, letting it wash everything else away. Viktor's kiss turns desperate, deepening, and he presses Yuuri back against the bathroom door, taking his hand and clasping their fingers together. The way their bodies slide together should incite Yuuri, but he just feels relief coupled with exhaustion. He only wants to feel Viktor, to know that he is safe here.

"You're alive," Viktor whispers when he breaks away, kissing Yuuri's lips over and over between the gentle words. "You're alive, Yuuri."

"I'm okay, Viktor," Yuuri whispers, tears swelling in his eyes as Viktor kisses love into his skin. He presses his cheek to Viktor's, uncaring that they are both crying. Wrapped up in Viktor's embrace like this makes the world seem far away. "We're okay. We're together."

Viktor tightens his hold on Yuuri's hands in a crushing grip, before suddenly releasing him as he leans back, his eyes widening. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" Viktor asks worriedly, but Yuuri shakes his head.

"No, I... it doesn't hurt, Viktor. The serum, it... well, you know," Yuuri says feebly. Viktor's gaze darkens briefly, before he exhales and takes Yuuri's hand again, drawing him over to the shower. He rids himself of the rest of his clothes, then steps into the hot water, backing up until Yuuri steps in after him.

Wordlessly, Yuuri closes the shower door, and Viktor picks up one of the bottles deposited on a small shelf. He lifts it questioningly, and Yuuri nods.

When Viktor's fingers touch his hair and begin massaging shampoo into his scalp, Yuuri nearly melts from the gentle sensation. He closes his eyes and merely _feels_ , lowering his head for Viktor to reach all of his hair. He stands still, losing himself in a daze as Viktor washes away the stench of medicine and sweat.

After a time, Viktor lets go of him, filling his palm with conditioner, then returning his fingers to Yuuri's head. The way he touches Yuuri, gently, as if he were precious, makes his eyes sting again. For a short time, he can't help but cry, letting the fall of water wash away both suds and tears.

Then Viktor lets him go again, and Yuuri opens his eyes slowly, watching Viktor as he picks up the shampoo once more. When Viktor holds it out to him, Yuuri tenses.

"No, I can't," Yuuri says, shaking his head quickly. "I'll hurt you. I can't control it yet."

"Yuuri, you could never hurt me." Viktor's gaze is impossibly soft. "I'll help you learn how to be careful. Trust in me." He holds his hand out, waiting, and Yuuri hesitates, thinking of all the things he has broken or cracked, the way he feels like his body is too small for him now. He couldn't bear it if he hurt Viktor.

Yet... Viktor has never flinched away from Yuuri, nor has he ever seemed hurt by his new strength. Viktor has been a Circle for most of his life. He is stronger than Yuuri could ever know. Ever since Viktor found him, Yuuri has held onto him, and Viktor has never faltered.

He reaches out to Viktor, touching their hands together. Viktor gently turns Yuuri's hand over and pours some shampoo into his palm, then guides Yuuri down to kneel on the floor of the shower. He lowers himself before Yuuri and bows his head, closing his eyes and waiting.

Yuuri stares down at him, his hand shaking as he cups the shampoo, the water pounding on his back. If he squeezes too hard, if he uses too much force...

Yet Viktor trusts him.

Viktor's heartbeat thuds gently in his ears, strong and steady. Yuuri takes a deep breath, then rubs his hands together, spreading the suds before touching Viktor's hair. Not once does Viktor's heartbeat ever falter in fear or anxiety, and slowly, Yuuri relaxes, his movements becoming a bit more certain, though he remains cautious.

He spreads the shampoo until Viktor's hair is lathered in it, massaging it slowly into his head. He tries not to press too hard, and it pays off; bit by bit, he learns to control the power in his fingers.

When Viktor lets out a low groan, Yuuri freezes, afraid that he has hurt Viktor. Immediately, Viktor's fingers touch his wrist. "Don't stop, Yuuri. It feels good."

Yuuri swallows, his heart skipping for a different reason altogether. "Okay," he whispers, then shifts to the side to let the curtain of water fall over Viktor's head, rinsing out the thick suds. Yuuri strokes his fingers through Viktor's hair until the water runs clean, and he breathes out shakily.

Viktor leans into his hands for a moment, sighing deeply, before opening his eyes. He reaches past Yuuri to pick up the next container, glancing up with a small smile before squeezing some of the conditioner into Yuuri's waiting hands.

The conditioner goes into Viktor's clean hair easily, and Yuuri makes sure to coat every strand, remembering how limp Viktor's hair was and wanting to make him feel better. Viktor lets out another low noise, but his heart rate remains the same, so Yuuri continues without faltering, trusting that Viktor will tell him if he needs to stop. His chest tightens with hope; he can still be gentle. He can still be normal, if he tries hard enough.

When Yuuri moves to the side to rinse Viktor's hair a second time, Viktor rises to his knees in front of him, tilting his head back as Yuuri runs his hands through Viktor's hair. When Viktor's hair finally feels smooth, he reaches past Yuuri once more to find a rag and a bar of soap, rubbing it into the terrycloth before spreading the damp rag over Yuuri's chest.

Yuuri bites his lip, finding Viktor's touch so much more intimate now. Viktor's strong hands gently turn him this way and that, sliding the soft fabric over his body, finding every little scar that Yuuri earned over the years. His fingers trail along Yuuri's ribs, then over his bony hips, where Yuuri was once plump and soft, then down his legs, now toned from running every day. When Viktor drags the rag back up between his legs, Yuuri can't help his gasp, grabbing at Viktor's arm.

Viktor lifts his gaze from its intense focus on Yuuri's body, silently asking if he can continue. Yuuri swallows nervously, then nods, holding still as Viktor gently cleans the most private parts of his body, which he has never shared with anybody. His touch leaves Yuuri throbbing with something he dares not name, not when he is so tired.

At last, Viktor decides Yuuri is clean and offers him the rag after wringing it out. Yuuri takes the piece of cloth and the soap, staring down at the items for a moment before he looks at Viktor, seeing his blue eyes glittering. Abruptly, Yuuri realizes that the glows of their circles are gone, and he slumps in shocked relief at the lack of information streaming into his brain.

"Yuuri?" Viktor asks in concern, but Yuuri shakes his head, not wanting to explain it. He takes a moment to lather up the rag, then reaches up to scrub Viktor's body.

Viktor is just as muscular and chiseled as Yuuri remembers, but his suffering is apparent in the ribs Yuuri can count with his fingers and the dark circles under his eyes. Yuuri pays special attention to those, cleaning Viktor's face off gently, then stroking the rag down each of Viktor's arms, noticing how his nails are short and roughened from months of hard travel. Viktor's ribs and flat stomach receive the same soft treatment.

Yuuri can't quite bring himself to wash between Viktor's legs. Instead he runs the rag down Viktor's thighs and to his feet, then nudges Viktor to turn around. Viktor gives him a small smirk, making Yuuri go red, before he turns around obediently, presenting his back for Yuuri.

Yuuri sighs shakily, rubs more soap into the rag, and continues washing. His gaze saddens at the sight of scars on Viktor's skin, including a very old one in the center of his back, along his spine. Yuuri traces that one with the tips of his fingers, knowing that a matching one is on his own back, and he aches.

When Viktor's back is clean, Yuuri silently urges him to turn again. Viktor obeys, but instead of taking the rag back, he catches Yuuri's wrists and pulls them around his waist, making him drop the rag. Then he wraps his arms around Yuuri and tugs him close, sighing deeply.

Yuuri gasps as their bodies press together, suddenly flushing with warmth as he realizes how close they are, skin sliding against slick skin. Viktor chuckles in his ear and presses a soft kiss to his pulse, his hands sliding slowly down Yuuri's back, finding the small scar left behind by the doctors who operated on him.

Yuuri stills at the first touch to that horrible mark on his skin, then moves his hand to press against Viktor's chest, finding the old, old scar that is barely visible any longer, merely a line of skin paler than the rest. He feels it, though: a scar left by a cruel doctor who didn't care how much it hurt a child. They match, now.

" _I love you, my little sun, my light,_ " Viktor whispers into his neck in Russian, his fingers tracing the metal circle beneath the skin in Yuuri's back, then trailing down his spine to his hip. Yuuri goes still for a moment, overwhelmed by the words that he once said to Viktor, which it took him months to return. Viktor cups the back of his head and kisses his hair. Yuuri shudders at the touch and turns his face into Viktor's shoulder, too choked with joy to respond properly. Instead he lifts his head and kisses Viktor deeply.

The wet slide of their lips together makes him tremble, leaving him warm, drifting in sensation. He can feel Viktor shaking against him, too, just as overwhelmed. They should be too tired to feel this way, yet the relief of being with Viktor again, of being safe... it makes him feel alive. "Viktor, I love you," Yuuri says when they pull apart, opening his eyes to look up at Viktor.

"Call me Vitenka," Viktor requests softly, his arms tightening around Yuuri. He sounds strangely vulnerable, and yet the nickname seems _right_.

"Vitenka," Yuuri whispers, his body running hot. Viktor gasps, his entire body shuddering at the sound of the endearment, and suddenly, his hands are on Yuuri's hips, lifting him.

Yuuri's back hits the shower wall, and Viktor slides his arms under Yuuri's legs, pulling them to hook around his waist. A moment later, Yuuri feels a hot hand wrap around him, around _both_ of them, squeezing perfectly.

"Vitenka," Yuuri cries out, throwing his head back against the tile. He scrambles to hold onto Viktor, grabbing at his arms. His hand slides down to grip Viktor's wrist as he moves his hand over both of them, not stopping him, but wanting to feel his movement. He has never felt like this before; no one has ever touched him like this. "I... I've never..."

"I haven't either," Viktor whispers roughly. Yuuri's heart seizes in his chest when he looks at Viktor, remembering that moment when they kissed in Hasetsu, and Viktor told him he had never been with anybody. "You're the only one who has ever mattered to me. The only one who ever saw me as _me_ , not as a soldier, not as a Circle. You see _me_." He leans up to capture Yuuri's mouth in a burning kiss, and Yuuri groans, kissing him back just as deeply.

He has no idea what he is doing, but with Viktor, everything that was once forbidden suddenly becomes irresistible. Their inexperience doesn't matter, because they can figure it out together. As gentle as Viktor has always been, he no longer holds himself back, setting up a brutal pace, thrusting them both together into the slick grip of his hand. Soon Viktor breaks the kiss so they can breathe, his soft grunts making Yuuri's skin sing.

Viktor's heartbeat is pounding in his ears. Yuuri cannot break under his touch now, and Viktor cannot break when Yuuri holds onto him. They can be together however they need.

The heat builds between them, too fast for Yuuri to make any sense of it. He can only process the sweet, hot slide of their skin together, of Viktor breathing into his neck, the dizzying desire searing through his veins. All too suddenly, his climax sweeps over him, and Yuuri comes with a choked cry, trembling as he digs his heels into Viktor's back.

"Vitenka, please," Yuuri begs, and Viktor gasps against his neck, his body going stiff as heat splashes against Yuuri's stomach.

They slowly calm down together, Yuuri's shaking legs dropping to the shower floor as Viktor lowers them to rest against the wall together. Viktor leans his forehead against Yuuri's shoulder, gazing down at the proof of their shared pleasure, slowly running his fingers through the mess they left. Yuuri shudders deeply when Viktor's fingers skirt over him, too sensitive after coming so hard.

"Viktor," Yuuri whispers, tightening his arms around Viktor. He doesn't ever want to lose this perfection.

"Vitenka. Or Vitya, if you want," Viktor whispers, oddly keen, and Yuuri blushes. He doesn't know if he could handle calling Viktor _Vitenka_ anywhere outside of this shower.

"Vitya," Yuuri whispers instead, loving the way the nickname sounds in his mouth. He could say it forever and never be satisfied; he will always want to say it again.

" _You amaze me. My lovely Yuuri, my little sun_ ," Viktor whispers, and when he looks up at Yuuri, he is smiling, the stress of the past few months gone. "I didn't exactly plan for this..."

Yuuri, to his own surprise, laughs. "I can't say I did either. But... I'm glad it's you," he says softly, his chest aching at the way Viktor's eyes light up. 

Viktor leans into Yuuri, their foreheads lightly touching. "All this time, I kept thinking of how I left you in Hasetsu. You asked me for so little, and I denied you the one thing you wanted... I cannot do it again, Yuuri. Ask it of me, beg me. I will give you everything."

Tears prickle at the corners of Yuuri's eyes. He tries to hide it in the stream of water, but his heart must tell Viktor the truth with a strange little throb, because his entire face softens with love. "You're the only person I've ever wanted to hold onto," Yuuri admits quietly, holding Viktor's gaze. "I don't know what the future holds. I'm scared of it, but you make everything okay."

Viktor's gaze saddens. "I never meant to bring you into my world. I... I have begged, and I have prayed, and I have pleaded. The universe has never listened. It has destroyed each and every thing I have ever held dear. It tried to destroy you, too. I couldn't let it happen, Yuuri. I couldn't be your downfall, and yet, I am."

Yuuri shakes his head. "No, Vitya. I was always headed for some kind of horrible end. You became my salvation."

For a moment, Viktor cannot respond, hiding his face in Yuuri's shoulder. Then he looks up, his gaze burning. "Yuuri," Viktor whispers. "What do you want? Anything I can give you, I will."

"Just you," Yuuri says into the hush, knowing he is blushing hotly. "I just need you, Vitya."

"You have me," Viktor says fervently, then kisses him once more. 

Yuuri melts into him, drinking in his taste with a sigh. As he draws away, he hears Viktor's heart give a strange little shudder and realizes it is the same sound his own heart made. The thought makes him smile.

After a moment, Yuuri glances down at their stomachs and grimaces. Viktor follows his gaze and chuckles, his cheeks turning a soft pink, which Yuuri can't help but admire.

The water is beginning to turn cool, but enough of it remains that Viktor can rinse them both off with one final scrub of soap. After the suds have washed away, Viktor pulls Yuuri to his feet and wraps his arms around him again for a long moment, sighing as they share space and warmth.

At last, Viktor steps out of the shower, holding Yuuri's hand to support him. He fetches them both a pair of fluffy towels that smell faintly of laundry detergent, wrapping Yuuri in the first towel and leaning in to touch their foreheads together. Yuuri can't help but love that Viktor wants to be close to him as much as Yuuri does, happy that the intimacy of their relationship in Hasetsu hasn't faded.

After a moment, Yuuri notices something and sniffs. "Does something smell like it's burning?" Yuuri asks, a little hazy with sleepiness and Viktor's warmth, and Viktor goes stiff with surprise.

"Shit," Viktor curses, quickly disengaging himself from Yuuri and running naked out of the bathroom. Yuuri starts laughing, and he doesn't stop for a long time.

Somehow, Viktor manages to save their dinner, which is simply potatoes and butter, yet the meal tastes better than any of the food Yuuri consumed while in prison. Yuuri doesn't even bend his fork this time, remembering how it felt to touch Viktor's hair and using that sensation to hold his fingers steady.

Afterwards, they retire to bed, turning each of the lights out. In the bedroom, Yuuri rubs his face into the sleeves of the shirt Viktor gave him, a little large on his body, just like the pair of shorts Viktor gave him. He hasn't worn proper clothes in so long, and they feel infinitely softer than the starched clothes he wore in prison and the compound. They smell good, too.

Viktor, wearing only a pair of pajama pants, activates his circle and leans in to kiss Yuuri's forehead. "Stay here while I check the perimeter," he murmurs, and Yuuri nods, nervous at the thought of anyone following them. Against his will, his own circle activates, catching Viktor's attention. Yuuri shrugs a little self-consciously, reaching up to cover the blue circle under his shirt, then glancing up and noticing Viktor smile sadly.

To Yuuri's embarrassment, Viktor catches his hand in his grip and lifts it to his mouth, softly pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand, before he lets go and walks out. Yuuri is left alone in the bedroom, his whole face flushed as he closes his hand over the tingling feeling Viktor left on his skin.

"Not fair, Vitya," Yuuri whispers, knowing Viktor can hear him. He hears a chuckle from somewhere outside and sighs, sitting down on the bed and sliding his legs under the covers. Though the blanket is clearly old, the sheets are clean, and the mattress is more comfortable than the cot he slept on in prison.

Soon Viktor returns, the glow in his eyes fading as he finds Yuuri waiting in the bed. A half-smile touches his lips, before he sinks into bed beside Yuuri, sliding an arm around his waist and pulling him down to lie against him.

Yuuri shifts closer to Viktor, trying to focus on calming himself to turn off his circle. Viktor begins to rub his back, his long fingers dipping down Yuuri's spine, gentle and familiar. "Are you able to turn it on and off at will yet?" Viktor asks softly.

"Not really," Yuuri replies, sighing against Viktor's collarbone. Beneath his hands, Viktor is very warm, lulling him. "He said he was going to teach me. Then he left me alone."

Viktor's heart skips a beat when Yuuri refers to Peter, his arm tightening a little around Yuuri's waist. Then he breathes deeply, lifting Yuuri's head a little as his chest expands, before expelling the air in a sigh. "I will teach you," Viktor says quietly. "I have the knowledge."

Yuuri is silent for a moment. "Even though it's blue and not green?"

"Mm... yes." Viktor sighs again, then rubs his face into Yuuri's hair. His heart aching, Yuuri finds Viktor's other hand and grasps it, holding on tightly when he feels Viktor trembling. "I will teach you, starting tomorrow."

For a long while, they lie together in silence. Yuuri thinks about Peter and all the comments he made about the program and the serum, and what it means for him. He hopes Viktor gives a thorough explanation about being a Blue Circle. Yuuri is tired of being in the dark. He wants to _know_. He isn't going to let Viktor get away with half-truths and secretive smiles about this, not like everything else.

"Rest, Yuuri," Viktor whispers. Yuuri starts a little and opens his eyes. He must have been thinking too loudly again.

Yuuri swallows. He can hear too much, and the blue glow is bothering him. He wants it all to go away. "I can't. I'm too worried."

"Worry not, Yuuri, my dear. We are safe from anyone who would wish us harm. Focus on my breathing. Listen to my heartbeat. Think of nothing else, only the sound against your ear."

Yuuri closes his eyes, yet behind his eyelids, all he can see is blue. He seeks Viktor's heartbeat and finds it immediately, and just as quickly, the tension begins to drain out of him. Viktor's breathing is soft and steady, and the feeling of Viktor's chest expanding against his side leaves Yuuri content.

The blue fades away, and Yuuri murmurs _Vitya_ under his breath. The gift of _Vitenka_ and _Vitya_ is one he will never take lightly, and he wants to hold onto that feeling, of Viktor loving him enough to share those names with him. Once, Viktor told him about someone who called him _Vitya._ He wonders if _Vitenka_ is a little more special, and he aches with happiness for a long moment.

"Being with you is like breathing again," Viktor whispers. Yuuri turns his face into Viktor's hair, his throat tightening with tears.

Here, they are safe.

~*~

Miles and miles away, a door opens into a meeting room where several people in suits and military uniforms are waiting. Peter Malakhov glances at the faces of his superiors with a bland expression. Instead of revealing any of his thoughts, Peter merely salutes and takes a seat at the table, setting his hands on the armrests as he waits.

A tall man with heavyset eyes and a permanent scowl motions to the woman at the front of the room, who presses a small button on a remote. An image appears on a large screen behind him, showing Yuuri in gray prison fatigues and thick-rimmed black glasses, next to a second photo of Yuuri in white clothes with glowing blue eyes, his hair longer and the glasses gone.

Peter stares at the image, a small muscle in his jaw twitching.

The speaker clears her throat. "Subject three-seven-six-seven, codename Robin, real name Yuuri Katsuki. After successfully completing level one of the Blue program, the subject was being held at the Velenos compound in Sochi, under the care of Dr. Nadine Chakova, to report to Captain Peter Malakhov for level 2 training.

"On June 14, 2019, the Sochi compound was attacked. Multiple bombs detonated and destroyed 65% of the buildings. Casualties include forty-two soldiers, seventeen physicians and scientists, and four other personnel. Dr. Chakova and nine other victims are in the hospital."

The image on the screen flickers and changes to pictures captured of the destroyed base, fires still burning in the early morning.

"We have confirmed that the subject is no longer in Velenos custody."

The image changes again to a still from a surveillance video, of two figures standing close together. One of the figures has dark hair, and the other has pale hair. Two different glows, green and blue, can be seen from the figures' faces.

"We believe the subject was kidnapped by the radical traitor, subject zero-two-three-six, code name Crow, real name Viktor Nikiforov."

A loud crack echoes through the room, silencing the woman and the murmuring from those watching. All eyes turn to Peter, who calmly opens his hand and drops his broken armrest on the floor. "My apologies," Peter says flatly. When his eyes turn a vivid blue, most of the room looks away, uncomfortable.

"Yes, well," the speaker stutters, then clears her throat again. "I will now play the surveillance video captured at the time of the attack."

The image on the screen changes to a video playing, with the camera focused on the large yard in front of the main building of the compound. A large explosion occurs off screen, before the lithe figure of Yuuri darts out of the front of the building. He looks around, eyes glowing blue in the darkness, then seems to spot something off camera.

The speaker clicks her remote, and the video changes again to another angle. In the left corner of the screen, Yuuri collides with another figure with platinum hair and glowing green eyes in an unmistakable embrace. After a moment, the two disappear from the camera's view. After a long, tense silence, the speaker clicks her remote again, pulling up a picture of Yuuri and the other embracing.

"The relationship between the subject and the traitor is unknown. They escaped with no witnesses from inside the company. However, they were seen that night by three civilians."

The next slide is a short video shot by a cell phone, of a figure standing in front of a destroyed gate, holding Yuuri close to his chest, while a building burns beyond the trees. A teen's voice demands, _"What the hell did you do?"_

On the screen, Viktor Nikiforov smiles, devastatingly handsome despite the lean look to his face and the circles under his eyes. _"I saved him,"_ he answers, before vanishing into the woods. The video cuts off after that, though Peter is aware that it continues with the youths' excitement and views of the fires. Thousands of copies of the video are already all over the internet, no matter how fast they try to censor it.

"Thanks to the traitor, a video of him and the subject has gone viral. The civilians have been apprehended and interrogated, but they did not see where the traitor took the subject. As you can see, the traitor..."

Peter doesn't bother listening any longer, his eerie gaze fixed on the frozen image of Viktor Nikiforov carrying Katsuki Yuuri away. Slowly, his lips pull back in a silent snarl, until Peter reaches up to cover his mouth, his burning stare narrowing. Suddenly he pushes his chair back and stands, causing the speaker to go silent.

"Peter, what the hell do you think you're doing?" demands the tall man, standing and scowling at Peter. With his white hair and dark gray eyes, the resemblance between them is uncanny, yet Peter barely acknowledges him.

"I'm going to get my partner back, General Malakhov," Peter says coldly, then leaves before they can issue him an order.

He steps into the first empty room he sees and locks the door shut, turning his focus to the very vague sensation in the back of his mind, of the preliminary awareness between him and Yuuri. Hardly a bond, and yet Peter reaches out to it anyway, the blue of his eyes giving way to white, vectors appearing in his cheeks and around his eyes, almost searing his skin as they grow hot.

He _reaches_ \-- and yet he cannot reach Yuuri.

Abruptly the glow fades as Peter gasps, stumbling and grabbing onto the wall to steady himself. He pants harshly for a few minutes, eyes shut tightly. Wherever Yuuri is now, Peter cannot locate him. They are too far apart, and they have not spent nearly enough time together to strengthen the connection between them. With enough training, Peter hoped to be able to locate Yuuri at merely a thought, to be able to use him during battles and missions.

Yet it cannot be, now. On the eve of finally having a real partner, of being able to fulfill his dream of years ago... someone has stolen it from him.

"Viktor," Peter growls, then stalks out of the room, ignore the faint stench of burning skin. Nobody stops him as he makes his way out of the tall, gleaming building in central Moscow, nor when he climbs into a sleek black car and drives away.

~*~

Yuuri comes awake with a small start, sitting up halfway and staring into the darkness. His eyes flood blue and begin to glow as his heart races, not understanding the strange feeling of dread enveloping him. With a small gasp, Yuuri reaches up to his eyes, which feel oddly hot. For a brief instant, his eyes flash white, but he never notices.

At Yuuri's side, Viktor stirs and sits up, his own circle activating as he looks past Yuuri for any sign of danger. Sensing nothing, Viktor turns his focus to Yuuri, who is rubbing at his head. Carefully, Viktor touches Yuuri's face and tilts his head up, studying his eyes, but he sees nothing out of the ordinary. Viktor leans in to kiss Yuuri's cheek at the corner of his eye softly, and Yuuri sighs, leaning into him.

"Bad dream?" Viktor asks.

"I guess," Yuuri whispers, then lets Viktor draw him down to bed again. He tucks his head under Viktor's chin, closing his eyes as he focuses on Viktor's heartbeat, until the hot sensation in his eyes begins to fade. His circle finally deactivates, and Yuuri sighs shakily.

"It's early," Viktor murmurs, his thumb rubbing little circles into Yuuri's hip. Soothed by Viktor's calming presence, Yuuri finds himself drifting again. Becoming a Circle has changed him so much that none of Yuuri's experiences feel _normal_ anymore. He has no idea what his new normal is. For all he knows, that strange sensation was just another part of his new abilities.

He trusts that Viktor will help him understand it, though.

"We can stay here for a while, right? Won't they be looking for us?"

Viktor hums softly, his warm breath brushing Yuuri's hair and making it flutter. Yuuri smiles a little at the feeling. "Until Yakov finishes arranging our escape and Mila says it is safe. There is a village nearby where we can buy groceries. They are used to tourists using this area for vacations, so we will not attract attention, if we are careful."

"They'll be watching the borders," Yuuri whispers, and Viktor lets out a noise of agreement.

"We have other ways to get out. Do not worry, Yuuri. We are safe here, and I will protect you."

"That goes for both of us," Yuuri muses sleepily. "I'm going to take care of you, too."

Viktor chuckles softly, his hand drawing down Yuuri's leg. After a moment, he pulls the covers over them both and turns his face into Yuuri's hair, sighing. "Rest, Yuuri."

Yuuri basks in his embrace for a moment, then turns his head a little and presses a small kiss to Viktor's heart. "Vitya," he murmurs, and he is rewarded by Viktor pulling him closer.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out [my tumblr](https://amberstarfight.tumblr.com/) for fandom things, meta rambling, and YOI feels. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! (*´♡`*)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fantastic Flipside](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11851833) by [lilithiumwords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithiumwords/pseuds/lilithiumwords)




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